Great Things
by redfoxrabbit
Summary: When Harry was left on the Dursley's doorstep, Petunia quickly realised he couldn't stay. Where else to leave him but with the very person who'd first lured her sister into the magical world all those years ago? With a very different upbringing on Diagon Alley, it's not exactly the same Harry that arrives at Hogwarts ten years later.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello, this is a first for me. I've been a reader for a long time and thought I'd try my hand at writing. I hope you enjoy._

GREAT THINGS

To say Petunia Dursley was shocked to find her nephew half frozen on the doorstep one morning would be a tremendous understatement. Wrapped in her dressing gown, she stared down at him for a moment, trembling, as the air was stolen from her lungs. Feeling the shock easing, she snatched the basket inside quickly and closed the door before the neighbours noticed anything peculiar. She sagged back against the door as grief threatened to overwhelm her. There was only one reason why her nephew would be there. She felt strangely empty knowing Lily was dead. They hadn't gotten on in years but there had been love there once before magic had ruined it for them.

She pushed past the sadness quickly and moved to set the basket and child down in the living room. She picked up the letter that was nestled between its blankets and sat down to read. Sadness was quickly replaced by disbelief, then anger. Who did these people think they were? Who did they think _Petunia_ was? Was her own family so worthless to them that they were expected to just ignore the danger of Lily's mistakes? Looking up the stairs, towards where her own child still slept, she came to a decision quickly.

This was not her problem. Professor Dumbledore had made it clear to her so many years ago that their world was not for her, and she would not sacrifice the safety and happiness of her own family to care for one of their problems.

She looked again at her nephew, who was still sleeping with unnatural calm. Steeling herself, she grabbed the basket, crossed the room and slid it, baby and all, into the cupboard under the stairs. Her husband would be up in a minute but if the child could sleep for just a few more hours Vernon would never need to know he'd been there.

o

Were it any other day, the occupants of the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley might have paid a bit more notice to the tall, bitter faced woman carrying an infant through the pub. As it was, with the war over and Voldemort dead they were still in the midst of the biggest celebration any could remember. Giddy excitement replaced any observational skills and one odd woman waiting patiently to follow others through the wall was hardly going to attract attention.

Petunia knew exactly where she was going and what she would do. The alley had changed little since her one other visit there, so despite the laughing, revelling crowds she felt confident she knew the way. Vernon was at work and Dudley had been left apologetically with a neighbour. The child, Harry, was awake now and looked up at her with grave eyes that seemed to know far too much about what she was doing. Petunia tried not to look at him directly to avoid any creeping feelings of doubt.

Finding the shop she was after she quickly ducked inside, then paused uncertainly. Now that she was here, she wasn't quite sure how to go about it. On the other side of the dark counter, the old man she remembered watched her calmly.

"Madam," he greeted her politely, breaking the silence.

"Good morning," Petunia said awkwardly. "You're the wand maker, yes?"

"I am."

"I remember you. You sold my sister her wand, back when she was a child."

"Miss Evans. Willow and dragon heartstring. A very good wand for charm work," Ollivander said, nodding. "And this… this is her son."

Petunia took an automatic step back as the man's eyes narrowed in on her nephew. There was something unnerving about his gaze that said he knew far too much. But then, they were all like that. Straightening herself, she launched into what she'd come to do.

"This is Harry Potter, my nephew and Lily's son," she told him. "I'm handing him over to you."

Ollivander stared at her, unperturbed. Under his gaze, she felt compelled to justify further.

"He's a magical, like she was. Like his _father_ ," she explained. "He's meant for your world, not mine. Yours."

"I am a very old man, Ms Evans."

"And I am deeply unsuited to raise a magical child," Petunia snapped, feeling a familiar, bitter anger that was threatening to surface. "And that's what he is, _Mister_ Ollivander, and he belongs with his own kind."

"Perhaps he does," Ollivander agreed quietly, his eyes never leaving the boy. "This discussion would possibly be better held with Professor Dumbledore or with someone from the Ministry."

Petunia laughed at that.

"Mr Dumbledore made is _perfectly_ clear how much he valued my opinion in his letter. And how would someone like me, a mere _muggle_ , reach your Ministry?" Petunia said. "This is where us normal families are instructed to bring children when they are to enter your world. This is where you steal them from us. I'm bringing him exactly where we are told to, but I cannot house him for the next ten years first."

The old shop keeper remained silent, watching the boy. Harry's gaze had finally left Petunia's face and he now met the old man's eyes peacefully.

"I suppose…" Ollivander paused, seemingly thinking. "He will be a remarkable child, to be sure."

"Of course he will, he's _Lily's_ ," Petunia practically shouted, bitterness coating her words. She sighed, then continued.

"Your world destroyed my sister. The least you can do is raise her son."

"That, I suppose, we did," Ollivander said. "And if this is really what you want, then I'll take the child."

Petunia sagged in relief. Stepping forward, she set the child down on the counter.

"What do you need from me?"

"We have… _ways_ of sorting out any bureaucratic processes your mundane agencies require. As for our world, for now the act of handing him over and your intention to be rid of him should be enough. Write two identical statements when you return home declaring your wish to relinquish custody. Include my name if you like. Sign your name in your own blood. I'll send an owl for one copy and then keep the other at hand to provide when they come for it. I would expect you will hear from Wizarding Welfare and from Professor Dumbledore himself in the next few weeks, when this is known."

"You keep them as far from me and my family as you can," Petunia said, fiercely.

"That is hardly likely to be in my control, Ms Evans."

"Dursley," she corrected. "I'm married."

Ollivander simply looked at her. Petunia shook her head and finally let herself look at her nephew properly. The boy gazed back at her with his oh-so-familiar eyes. For a few moments, everything was briefly still.

"You tell him his mother was a sweet girl once, before all this," Petunia said quietly, not yet looking away. "You tell him my side of the family is normal and respectable."

"Of course, Mrs Dursley."

"He belongs with his own kind," she said again, almost to herself.

Ollivander and the child watched her silently. Nodding, she stepped back to the door.

"Goodbye, Harry."

Her sister's eyes watched her leave for the last time. She could not be held to their judgement anymore.

It took a surprisingly long time for Albus Dumbledore to realise something wasn't right with Harry Potter's living arrangements. Wrapped up in the political situation, dozens of trials and the tragedy of the Longbottoms, he didn't properly examine his monitoring spells for several weeks after he'd left the child in Little Winging. When he did and found them unresponsive, he left it still further, assuming Petunia Dursley and her nephew hadn't yet come to accept each other. The spells were based on both she and the boy thinking of the house as his home.

A solid month after Halloween, Dumbledore finally made the trip back to Privet Drive, believing he was only going to re-trigger the wards. A rather nasty surprise awaited him when he arrived.

"What do you mean he doesn't live here?" Albus asked, aghast.

"Just what I said," Vernon Dursley said, testily. "Why would he? Petunia told me about her sister and her husband. Very sad for you lot I'm sure, but what can you expect from the life they were leading?"

"Petunia told you- is Mrs Dursley available?"

Vernon looked at him suspiciously. He was not impressed by the mad old man with his unconventional beard and had no intention of inviting him in.

"She's with our son," he replied. "Head around the back. I'll tell her to meet you at the rear door."

Dumbledore made his way to the back alley, picking his way through the bins. Entering through the rear gate, he found Petunia already waiting for him in the yard, door closed firmly behind her. There was no sign of her own son, who Dumbledore assumed was now with Vernon.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Dursley," he tried to begin pleasantly. She was having none of it.

"What do you want, Professor?"

"Mr Dursley must have told you, I'm here to check on little Harry. Where is he?"

"Not here. Why would you assume he was?"

"Mrs-" Dumbledore cut himself off, then started again. "Do not play the fool with me, Mrs Dursley. I assure you I can be much more direct if I must. Harry Potter was left on your doorstep late in the night on October 31st. My wards kept him from being disturbed or injured until collected by yourself, which I have record of occurring. _Where_ is he now?"

Petunia stayed silent for a moment, then shifted and produced a folded piece of paper from one of her pockets. She held it out to Dumbledore, smirking a little as she did so. He took it, eyeing her warily as he started to read. She watched him, still smirking as he grew progressively paler. Finally, he looked up at Petunia.

"Why Ollivander?"

Petunia shrugged.

"Who else do I know? Lily said every magical child in England gets taken there, so he can't be too much of a danger."

"You foolish, foolish woman," Dumbledore whispered. Petunia merely raised an eyebrow.

"Are we done then?"

Dumbledore disapparated without further comment. Shrugging, Petunia went back into the house. Hopefully that would be all the excitement for the day.

Dumbledore reappeared in Diagon Alley, drawing friendly greetings from several street peddlers. He strode towards his destination, bursting in moments later. Ollivander stood waiting for him, calm and unfazed.

"Professor," he greeted him. "What can I do for you today?"

"Don't play with me, Garrick," Dumbledore snapped. "Signed in blood? You tricked her into a blood based contract!"

"I hardly tricked her," Ollivander protested mildly, "She wanted a permanent way to be rid of the child, I merely provided it. Would you prefer I'd sent her to the goblins?"

Dumbledore looked at him flatly.

'You can't possibly expect to keep him."

"Oh, but I do, Albus. Harry is a delightful child. I'm growing quite attached to him."

Ollivander leaned back and looked down, drawing Dumbledore's attention to the basket he had nestled on the floor behind the counter. In it, the Boy Who Lived napped peacefully.

"He's too old to sleep through the whole day of course," Ollivander told him. "But I've found he's quite a content young boy, very happy with a few simple toys and gentle attention from myself here and there. He's explored every corner of my flat upstairs in the evening and during the days he totters around behind the counter here quite happily, watching people come and go."

"You've let others see that he's here?" Dumbledore asked, aghast.

"Only those that wouldn't recognise him and mean him no harm either way," Ollivander looked at him gravely. "With my line of work, you'll find I'm a rather good judge of character and intent, Albus. And I'm aware of the vulnerability of my ward."

"He cannot stay here, Garrick."

"He can," Ollivander corrected. "I have the blood-signed intent of his closest relation, the guardian _you_ chose for him. That will outrank the claim of any other wizard you could find, beyond the boy's godfather. You don't mean to suggest Harry should live in Azkaban do you?"

Dumbledore stared at him, still processing what had happened. Harry Potter had been here for a _month_ already. If he took this before the Wizengamot his own claim would be severely questionable, especially in light of the failure of his first choice of guardian. Even if Ollivander lost, the Malfoys would promptly file their own case for custody as the boy's next closest relatives. The Tonkses might do the same, but their chances of winning against the Malfoys' gold was slim, even this recently after Lucius' own legal troubles.

It couldn't be risked. Dumbledore, ever the tactician, started quickly revising his plans on the spot.

"People will certainly find out he's here," he began out loud. Ollivander was unfazed.

"That's fine, let them. It will be healthy for the child to get used to the attention he'll get while he's still young. Perhaps some of the awe will wear off if they get used to seeing him around."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore agreed, still caught in his musings. "You'll need extra security, though. Your wards certainly need updating."

"If you think it's necessary," Ollivander replied, his mystical persona returning.

"It is," Dumbledore said, firmly. "I'll implement a new set over the premise myself. Harry is not to be taken outside of the shop and the flat under any circumstances, for at least the first few years. Understood?"

Ollivander inclined his head.

"I will assign you one of the Hogwarts elves, too," Dumbledore continued. "One that's good with small children."

"Only a foolish man turns down a helping hand," Ollivander said by way of agreement.

"Just be careful about which hands you accept," Dumbledore replied, dryly. He leant forward to look over the counter at the sleeping toddler. "Very well, Garrick, we'll give this a try. I'll support you with the Ministry when they get wind of this, and they most certainly will."

"Very good of you, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded and turned to leave again.

"I'll be back later today to begin work on your wards and other… details," he said. "Keep that boy safe, Garrick. If you fail, you may doom us all."

Ollivander watched the doorway for a few minutes after the professor's departure. Finally, he looked down at his ward once again.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."


	2. Chapter 2

GREAT THINGS

Chapter 2:

The residents and workers of Diagon Alley had a wonderful time over the next few days speculating about just what was going on over at Ollivander's. After Dumbledore's first visit there was a dramatic upgrade of the shop's wards with first a Gringotts team and then Dumbledore himself adding layer after layer to the building's protections. A couple of citizens couldn't resist approaching Ollivander himself after his guests had left and came back with interesting news. First, one of the many wards was a magic dampener, preventing any deliberate spell casting within or on the shop by anyone other than Ollivander and Dumbledore. The other interesting detail the wand maker shared was that this was all for the protection of his new ward, an infant. Gossip and excitement ran up and down the alley for the rest of the day, before the next morning's paper answered all their questions.

 _'Harry Potter to live in Diagon Alley'_

The scoop - from one of the paper's newest journalists, Rita Skeeter - detailed the choice of Harry Potter's aunt to give her nephew a wizarding upbringing and Garrick Ollivander's long and close history with Lily Potter's family. A brief mention was made of the wand maker's first family and their passing, but the quotes of support from Professor Dumbledore and other reputable members of society led to the conclusion that this would be a wonderful chance for the child.

Diagon Alley's residents felt very satisfied by all this. Those who'd already glimpsed the toddler in the last few weeks suddenly made the connection between his black hair and the famous babe they'd all heard about over the last month. Those who hadn't suddenly found excuses to drop in at Ollivander's to peek and gush at the child. All agreed that Mister Ollivander was very polite and agreeable about all the attention. Harry himself seemed rather bemused.

Within the shop itself and its little flat upstairs, things were quietly changing. The introduction of the new house elf from Hogwarts suddenly gave Harry a lot more attention than just Ollivander's quiet approval. The elf was a sweet little thing called Nolly and her devotion to him was instant and all encompassing. She beamed at every chance to dress or play with him. Mister Ollivander found her presence much more helpful than expected, and found trusting her to prepare and deliver all his meals left him far more time for his own research and craft.

The new wards themselves caused a few tricky issues. Ollivander could cast spells, but overzealousness from Dumbledore meant his first few customers after the changes were unable to get a response from any wand they tested. A quick owl had the headmaster stopping by to make some adjustments. Customers could now produce sparks and - occasionally - other responses, but nothing deliberately cast.

The first attempted attack on Harry came a few weeks after the first article. Randolf Gibbon came in seeking a new wand and immediately set an alarm wailing. His attempt to cast a spell at the wide-eyed toddler had Ollivander merely raising an eyebrow. Hearing the cracks of Aurors arriving, he pulled out a throwing knife and flung it at the child, only to have it vanish into smoke the second it left his hand.

His failure and subsequent arrest made the front page of the Daily Prophet the following morning and likely deterred several similarly haphazard attempts. Those still planning resolved to be much subtler.

Harry's first christmas in the Alley passed uneventfully, as those of one-year-olds do. As winter continued, the toddler grew more and more accustomed to his new, peaceful home and his quiet guardian. With his young age and with no further trauma, his memories of his parents faded away without fuss and were replaced with the warm comfort of the small flat, the doting Nolly, and the kind Mister Ollivander. He also grew quite confident exploring the cluttered space behind the shop counter, playing with blank wands and peeking around the counter edge at gawping customers.

Everyone stared. He grew used to it, though, and started to become familiar with the more frequent visitors, most often other shopkeepers who stopped by to drop off deliveries or simply to chat with the old wand maker.

"He's a good boy," Florean Fortescue would say gruffly and pass over a tiny serve of ice-cream for Ollivander to give to Harry. In the simple world of a toddler, this automatically made him one of Harry's _favourite_ visitors and he'd beam at him happily from behind Mister Ollivander's leg every time.

Other frequent visitors came in the form of the grocer's boy, the young apprentice from the Apothecary, and several of Madam Malkin's giggling assistants. There was an automatic fondness for the Boy-Who-Lived, given they'd already been told to love him by the papers. However, his sweet and curious but shy nature made him a popular resident on the street in his own right.

From Harry's perspective, there were just the faces he knew and the faces he didn't, and he smiled more for the ones he did. Passing his second birthday (kept firmly upstairs to avoid the huge crowd that had amassed to celebrate it) and moving quickly on to his third, he was growing into a polite young child, unfazed by new faces and surprises, but still a little unsure of how to socialise. The public's need to stare and gush at him never seemed to fade, but as time went on people thought less about the awe and mystery surrounding what he did (although they never forgot) and instead their first association with the name _Harry Potter_ was the polite, shy young child who peeked over Ollivander's counter at them and smiled at them with big, trusting eyes.

The first major change to Harry's routine came around his fourth birthday. He was sitting behind the counter one day playing with a blank wand casing when the shop bell rang. He looked up curiously as a family of redheads bustled through the doors. There were so many of them!

"Mrs Weasley," Mister Ollivander greeted the matriarch in his usual, calm way. "Cedar and unicorn hair, I believe. Ten and a half inches. How is it lasting for you?"

"Oh quite well, Mister Ollivander. Although I'm afraid it may be used to _bop_ one of these boys over the head if they don't all _calm down_!"

The last was directed at the many, _many_ rowdy boys that had entered with her, all of whom subsided and looked at her sheepishly. On her hip, a girl younger than Harry himself poked her tongue out at them all, before catching Harry's eye and burying her head against her mother.

"And how is William's wand? Young Mister Weasley?"

"Er, it's good sir," the oldest of the boys shuffled awkwardly under the old man's focus.

"You're taking good care of it, I'm sure? Not getting too many dings and scratches?"

The boy didn't seem to know how to answer this and simply looked around wildly for a moment. Ollivander released him from the strain and turned to look at another boy.

"I presume today it must be your turn, Charlie Weasley. I've been expecting you around this time."

The second boy looked far more nervous than the first and required a nudge from his mother to approach the counter. As the measuring tape flew past Harry's head towards its latest mark, he refocused on his own game, not noticing the youngest boy wander away from the group and come to bump against the invisible barrier blocking the gap between the counter and the wall. Mister Ollivander had noticed though and eyed him for a few moments as he bumped against the ward line a few times. He came to some sort of decision and, without any visible change, the boy's next attempt let him through.

"Hullo," the red-haired boy announced, startling Harry.

"Hello," he replied quietly. "Who're you?"

"I'm Ron," the boy announced, looking at him curiously. "What you doing?"

"Playing wands."

"Is that fun? What d'you do?"

Harry looked at him. Then, picking up the blank again, he hit him over the head.

The boy blinked twice, then broke into peals of laughter. Picking up another blank, he poked Harry in the belly with it.

"Bop!" he called, then laughter took over again.

Laughter, Harry learned, was infectious. He began giggling himself and picked up a second blank.

"Bop, bop!" He got him on both shoulders, then dodged the next poke coming at him.

"Ash and unicorn hair," Mister Ollivander was saying. "A fine combination, I think this one will probably do the trick for you. Yes, see? A nice strong show of sparks. You will do well with this wand, young Mister Weasley."

"Will it be reusable?" Mrs Weasley asked, somewhat awkwardly. "I mean, could it possibly suit one of the others, if Charlie is done with it."

Mister Ollivander looked wary.

"Ash ought not to be gifted to another, they will never get a full response from it. Young Charlie here may find his needs suit something slightly different if his desires change as he gets older, but if you must pass it on ensure he truly doesn't think of it as his any longer." He paused and looked behind him. "The combination may suit your youngest son, for a while, but he won't do close to his best with it."

"My young- Ron, what are you doing behind there?" Mrs Weasley called out, exasperated. "Oh, it's little Harry. How are you dear?"

Harry tried to respond politely as he knew he should, but his attempts to stammer out an answer through his giggles only made it funnier and he fell to the floor, laughing. Ron was called away and put the blanks down, smiling toothily at Harry. Mrs Weasley's suggestion of a playdate was quietly denied by Mister Ollivander and the family bustled out of the shop again, with the youngest few waving goodbye.

Harry went back to his spot and gathered up the blanks he was using, still sniggering to himself every few moments. His guardian watched him calmly, looking rather pleased about something. An owl arrived at Hogwarts later that evening to inform Professor Dumbledore that Mister Ollivander's ward would be taking lessons after his fifth birthday and that the professor had just under a year to give his preferences for a suitable teacher and companions.

o

A little over a year later, a nervous five-year-old Harry stood patiently in front of the fireplace in Ollivander's flat. Behind him, his guardian was calmly accepting a travelling cloak from the ever present Nolly. This was to be young Harry's first trip outside of the building as he was finally off for lessons.

He'd already met his tutor Mrs Abbott and her daughter Hannah when they'd come by for tea a few weeks ago. In agreement from Mister Ollivander and with a small stipend from Professor Dumbledore, Mrs Abbott was to teach basic literacy and numeracy to Harry and Hannah three mornings a week, along with two other children whose parents had sought out a teacher. She was also going to teach them about wizarding history and culture to give them all a firm grounding in their world. Discussions had been had about outings to quidditch matches and the like in the future, but that was considered some years away.

Now, on September 1st, Harry was trying hard to keep his calm. Ollivander did not appreciate impatience or jitters; he preferred a quiet, calm home. Harry didn't have long to wait though as moments later his guardian's reassuring hand rested on his shoulder and guided the boy to the fireplace. The flames were already green, awaiting them. Harry gulped, then stepped in without pause. He was joined by his guardian who gave him an approving look that Harry loved. Holding his ward's shoulder tightly, Ollivander threw the powder down and firmly called out their destination.

"Bluebell Cottage."

Harry let out a childish shriek as the flames whirled around them, whisking them away. His eyes widened in both excitement and nausea, but seconds later he was stumbling out of the fireplace with only his guardian's hands to stop him falling.

"Hi Harry!"

He looked up to see Hannah Abbott smiling at him, her blond hair in the same pigtails he remembered from her visit. He looked around silently for a second before his guardian nudged him.

"Oh. Hello Hannah, hello Mrs Abbott," Harry said politely. "Thank you for having me."

"You're very welcome Harry dear," Mrs Abbott replied. "Please have a look around and make yourself at home while I talk with your guardian. Hannah, please introduce Harry to Anthony?"

Hannah beamed and jumped up quickly. Straightening her robe, she cleared her throat and gestured, palm upward, at her companion.

"Harry, please let me introduce you to Anthony," she intoned formally, then giggled.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," the other boy said in the rhythmic tone of someone repeating a well-drilled line.

Harry glanced quickly at Ollivander before adding his own well taught response.

"And I you, Mister Anthony."

Mrs Abbott laughed kindly.

"Just Anthony, Harry. Anthony's last name is Goldstein, just as yours is Potter."

Hannah and Anthony looked at each other excitedly at this. They both clearly knew a little of their new companion.

"Now do have a look around and talk with the others, Harry. I'll be here speaking with Mister Ollivander."

Nodding, Harry stepped away from the adults and towards his new classmates. Looking around he saw they were in a large open room with a big round table in the middle. Bookcases lined the walls on either side of the fireplace, while boxes of toys were tucked neatly under a window to one side. A large board was on the wall in front of the table and a door on the far side opened onto a kitchen and conservatory, leading into a pretty walled garden. The fireplace was no longer the eery green of the floo network and now bathed the room with a warm glow.

"Hello," Harry greeted the other two children.

"Hi," Hannah said, almost shyly now.

"My mum says you live in the wand shop," Anthony said. "Do you really? That must be brill!"

Harry smiled widely.

"I live above it. It's really nice."

"We live in London, too," Anthony continued. "Dad says it's because then he doesn't have to worry if the floo network is jammed."

"What does your dad do?"

"Our dads work together at the Min'stry," Hannah replied for him.

"Oh."

There was silence for a moment before the two adults came over to join them.

"Harry, listen to Mrs Abbott today," Ollivander said. "One must grasp firmly to the lessons life offers, less they miss the more subtle ones it tries to hide."

"I will," Harry replied, smiling.

"Have a nice morning, child. I'll fetch you at one."

"Goodbye, Mister Ollivander," Mrs Abbott said.

After the old wand maker left, the other children turned to Harry, eyes wide.

"Does he _always_ talk like that?" Anthony asked. "It's brill!"

"What did he _mean_?" Hannah added, looking confused.

Mrs Abbott laughed again.

"Okay children, you three can play with the toys by the window for a little longer. Daphne isn't due for another fifteen minutes or so and there's no point starting lessons without her. Go on, shoo!"

Hannah pulled the two boys over to the window and proudly distributed some of her favourite toys. A quarter hour later saw them absorbed in a make-believe world that their fourth companion, a small dark haired girl called Daphne, was quickly pulled into as well. Mrs Abbott left them to it as she spoke with the girl's mother and then gave them a few more minutes to play before calling them to sit around the big table.

"Now," Mrs Abbott began, "I'm told by all of your parents that you all have a little bit of an idea about counting and reading. Who here can count to ten? Hands up, like this."

Four hands went up.

"Wonderful! And who knows some of the alphabet or can read a few words?"

Again, each child raised a hand.

"Oh, lovely. Now, how many of you can write?"

Here there was a pause. Anthony Goldstein started to put his hand up, then paused and lowered it again, looking uncertain.

"Then this is where we're going to start," Mrs Abbot said, smiling kindly. "We'll begin by each of us learning all our letters and numbers and how to write them. It's not very tricky, it just takes practice! After that, we'll move onto more complicated things and by the time you all head off to Hogwarts, you'll be ready for anything!"

Lessons began in earnest and time flew by. As lunchtime and the end of their day together approached, Mrs Abbott sent the children into the garden to play. There, in the heat of a surprisingly sunny day, Harry suddenly learnt the joy of what he'd been missing in his little flat all this time. When Ollivander arrived to collect him, he was at the very top of a broad oak tree in the yard, laughing down at Hannah and Daphne on the lower branches. Anthony had been collected moments earlier.

"Don't worry," Mrs Abbott reassured the wand maker. "The whole yard is warded under Dumbledore's instructions, and that tree has cushioning charms the whole way down and about it."

"Of course," Mister Ollivander said. "After all, it is important we learn when we are young to stretch beyond what we thought was our furthest reach."

"Of course," Mrs Abbott echoed back, looking at him oddly.

"And that must be young Miss Greengrass," Mister Ollivander said, looking at the girl in question as she balanced precariously on a branch. "It appears she takes after her mother. An elm wand will suit her too, I suspect."

"Dumbledore was wary of her inclusion here," Mrs Abbott confided. "But she seems to be a sweet girl, if a little quiet. Almost definitely a Slytherin, though. You're right, she's an exact copy of her mother."

"Quite," Mister Ollivander said, then gave his companion a reassuring smile. "Now, I believe it is time we called Harry in."

"Harry dear, Mister Ollivander is here!"

Harry scampered down the tree at almost worrying speeds before taking a more sedate pace towards his guardian.

"I wrote my name," he announced, looking up at the old man anxiously.

"Well done, child," Ollivander said warmly. "Do you want to show me?"

The boy beamed, then led the way back into the cottage to proudly display his best effort from the day. He then sat down to carefully repeat his work and show his guardian how he'd done it.

"He did well," Mrs Abbott said quietly to the wand maker. "He's a quick study and he gets on well with the other children."

"Good, good. He's a naturally clever child."

"That he is," Mrs Abbott replied warmly. "Harry, did you have a nice time today?"

"Oh yes," Harry said politely, turning to face his tutor. "Thank you for having me, Mrs Abbott. It is very kind of you."

"You're very welcome sweetheart. Now, I believe Mister Ollivander is wanting to head off!"

Harry walked quickly outside to make his practiced formal goodbyes to the two girls, then came to join his guardian at the fireplace. A few dizzying moments later he was back in the flat and Nolly was rushing to greet him.

"Master Harry! How was your class being?"

Harry gave a wide smile.

"It was brill!"

o

 _I hope you like it. It's not the most dramatic of chapters, but all lives start somewhere._

 _Thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing!_


	3. Chapter 3

GREAT THINGS

Chapter 3:

Over the next few months, the little family above the wandshop began to settle into another new rhythm. Three mornings a week, Mister Ollivander flooed Harry over to Bluebell Cottage for his lessons and then came to retrieve him again at lunchtime. For the rest of the week, both man and boy spent the majority of their days downstairs in the shop. As Harry grew in confidence, Ollivander began to allow him to mind the counter whilst he crafted new wands. Autumn was the quietest season for the store, so there was no harm in letting the young boy stand happily and earnestly behind the counter, greeting the few customers who came in with his best manners before running to fetch his guardian. Harry was still visited frequently by his old favourite, Florean Fortescue, who would drop by several times a week with a small scoop of his newest flavour to try.

Harry's classes were progressing well, too. The four little students had gotten used to each other's presence and varying personalities and a pleasant balance had formed. Hannah was the most boisterous of them, always the first to want to guess an answer and the most excited for each new activity. Anthony was by far the quickest learner of the group and could already read whole sentences! Daphne was clever, but hated to volunteering answers unless she was absolutely certain she was correct. Harry was still by far the quietest of the group, but this was now mostly due to habit, not shyness. His own quiet upbringing had instilled in him a contemplative calmness that made him more likely to ponder something silently than chatter meaninglessly. All this of course went out the window when a particularly exciting game was to be played and he'd shriek and laugh with the rest of them.

As the weather turned colder and Christmas approached, the group was joined by another child, Susan Bones. She and Hannah formed an instant connection that made them the group's default leaders. Susan, Harry understood from his guardian, would be a great friend for life. Privately, Ollivander knew her presence in the class was firmly suggested by Dumbledore to balance that of Daphne Greengrass.

Harry's new activity necessitated a further one he wasn't previously used to: christmas shopping. A firm letter was sent from Ollivander to Hogwarts informing its headmaster that the wand maker's ward required an outing. After a barrage of owls back and forth failed to make the demand disappear, a date was selected and Ollivander was advised in no uncertain terms that they would have company on their shopping trip.

On the day of the outing, Harry was dressed and ready in his best (and only) cloak, with Nolly fussing about him. Ollivander was still seated, keeping one careful eye on the fireplace. A few minutes before 10am, the fireplace sprung to life and deposited the strangest dressed man Harry had ever seen on their living room rug.

"Harry," Ollivander began, rising from his seat, "This is Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts."

"Hello sir," Harry said, slightly awkwardly.

"Hello Harry," the odd Professor replied happily. "How are you my dear boy?"

"I'm good, sir. Thank you for taking me shopping."

"No trouble at all, Harry. Now Garrick, how are you my old friend?"

"I'm well, Albus," Ollivander replied, dryly.

Their visitor smiled benignly and there was silence for a few moments.

"Shall we be off?" Dumbledore finally asked, indicating the door.

The odd group made their way downstairs and to the shop's front entrance. Here, Harry paused a moment and looked back at Mister Ollivander for confirmation. Receiving a nod, he took a breath and opened the front door.

Diagon Alley was quieter than most pre-Christmas days. The Hogwarts Express was due in that afternoon, leaving the alley sparse of its usual gift-shopping parents but not yet replacing them with excitable teenagers. There was still plenty of shoppers, though, and Harry took a reflexive step back towards his guardian. At only five, this was a lot more stimulation than he was used to.

Ollivander laid a protective arm around his ward's shoulders, calming him easily. A glance was shared between the two adults and, after Ollivander mouthed something Harry didn't see, Dumbledore appeared to take the lead.

"Let's be off then, shall we my boy?" Dumbledore said, directing them down the street.

He seemed somehow calmer and more serene than before and Harry noticed the professor was getting respectful glances from passers-by. Strangely, their eyes seemed to skim straight over Mister Ollivander and Harry, as though they hadn't noticed them there. With kind, calming support from his guardian and cheerful christmas spirit from the professor, Harry was quickly absorbed into the gift shopping process. A stop was even made to one of the street vendors to collect bags of roasted chestnuts for the adults in Harry's life, including one for Dumbledore.

Two hours and many parcels later, the odd group made their way back to Ollivander's, where an exhausted Harry was whisked away by Nolly for a nap.

"He is only five," Ollivander reminded Dumbledore when the other man looked disappointed.

"Yes, you're quite right," Dumbledore said. "I'm so used to meeting these children at eleven when they still seem so very young. I often find myself forgetting they were even smaller before then."

"They're all young compared to us, Albus."

"What, no mysticism from you today, Garrick?" Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling.

Ollivander looked at him flatly.

"How long must I be expected to ask your permission for I do with my own ward, Albus? For how many years can I expect your interference? Only until he finished Hogwarts? Or will it be far further into his life?"

Dumbledore's jovial attitude faded.

"You know my beliefs about Harry's former adversary, old friend. There is not the slightest chance we're lucky enough to be rid of him."

"Obviously, Albus. Do you take me for a fool?"

"I don't believe Harry's life is rid of him either. Their fates are likely intertwined, Garrick."

"That seems to be as yet undecided," Ollivander said. "Harry's life will be shaped by his own choices and the guidance he receives."

"Don't be naive, Garrick," Dumbledore said quietly. "You know the path that boy will walk."

"But the steps he takes down it, Albus, will be his own."

Dumbledore looked at him for a moment, before twinkling again.

"Back to the mysticism are we?" He smiled slightly, "Well, I know my cue, you'd like your evening back I take it?"

Ollivander merely inclined his head.

"Well, I'll be off then. Here, though, are the gifts Harry selected for his little friends. Do try not to judge the boy too much by the gift he chose for you, old friend. He is, after all, only five."

"That he is," Ollivander agreed.

o

Christmas that year was less peaceful than his previous ones had been. Harry, now informed by his friends of how excited he should be, obediently rose to the occasion. Nolly, too, seemed delighted by all the energy and practically buzzed around the house with her young charge. Mister Ollivander remained mostly in his usual chair, watching the pair of them in mild amusement.

Gifts were well received by both, with Harry nearly overwhelmed by the sheer volume he was given by all his new connections. Even Professor Dumbledore had sent him something! A delicious bag of small yellow candies.

The rest of the day passed smoothly, along with the next few that followed. Nolly's overly enthusiastic catering gave the household leftovers to last them until New Year. A few more quiet weeks passed, then Harry went back to his classes again.

His classmates all gushed about their Christmas experience, each showing off their own favourite gifts. This was a tradition Harry was happy enough to join in on, proudly sharing details of his own presents and the magnificent desserts Nolly had prepared. He quickly learnt that not everyone lived with a house-elf. Only he and Susan enjoyed the company of an elf full time, although Daphne said her grandparents had one at their home. The confusion Harry and Susan displayed led to a sudden change in Mrs Abbott's planned curriculum, with the newly introduced topic of 'wizarding households'.

"Wizards," she told the enraptured group, "live in all kinds of different ways. Some like Daphne and Susan come from very old families who've been around for centuries! Many of these kinds of families live in big manor houses that their families have had for generations. Susan and her Aunt live in Bones Manor, and Daphne's grandparents live in Greengrass Manor. Other families like Anthony's choose to live in Muggle areas and hide the magical aspects of their house from their neighbours. Others, like Hannah and I, choose to live in the countryside where we can have lots of privacy and keep our houses as we like."

"What about people like Harry and Mister Ollivander," Anthony asked. "Are there lots of families who live in Diagon Alley."

"There are some," Mrs Abbott said. "I can think of four or five families with children who live along the alley. Many of the shopkeepers live above their stores, and many young wizards and witches who don't have families choose to live in apartments there, too. Diagon Alley is what's called a magical neighbourhood, where everybody who lives there is aware of magic. Aside from the alley, there's another like this in Scotland called Hogsmeade."

"We've been there! Haven't we Mum?"

"Yes sweetheart," Mrs Abbott replied to her daughter with a laugh. "It's a common place for all witches and wizards to visit at some point. If you don't get to go while you're young, you'll certainly get to once you're at Hogwarts. It's right next to the castle!"

"Really?"

"Really."

The children began pouring out questions, one after the other. Who did the cooking when there wasn't a house-elf, why did some wizards live among muggles, and were there rules about who got to live in Hogsmeade? Harry sat quietly, frowning to himself for a few minutes. Finally, he raised his hand and Mrs Abbott looked at him expectantly.

"There are other families who live in Diagon Alley?"

o

It took several months for Harry to get the introduction he was hoping for to the other Diagon Alley residents in his age group. He'd been insistent about it since the first afternoon he'd come home after Mrs Abbott had told him they existed. His guardian had seemed entirely unfazed and more than happy to simply pop around to meet his neighbours. At this point, for the first time, Harry finally learnt that he and Ollivander were not free to do whatever they liked. He was incredibly put out by the discovery.

A firm letter was thus sent to Headmaster Dumbledore advising him of Harry's wishes, but now for the first time it was written in Harry's own hand. The boy had first dictated his message to his guardian, who obediently wrote it out for him, but then passed the copy back to Harry himself and taught him an important lesson. There a some things, he learnt, that a wizard must do for himself.

It took Harry a good few afternoons to copy out the brief letter in his own childish scrawl. It took longer still once he was told that Mister Ollivander didn't expect him to merely copy it, he expected the boy to learn the word properly and to be able to spell them on cue. Letter writing was an important skill for a growing wizard. A good few weeks later, the letter was sent to Dumbledore.

 _Dear Mr Dumbledore,_

 _I would like to meet the other children in Diagon Alley. It is not nice of you to stop me. Please may I meet the other families._

 _Thank you kindly,_

 _Harry_

Despite Harry's diligent practice and untold attempts at writing the missive, the end result still took up over half a foot of parchment in large, uneven handwriting. The young man's pride, though, came from the approving nod of his guardian who then _finally_ placed it in an envelope, addressed it and sent Nolly off to give it to a post owl. Dumbledore's reply came in the next morning advising Harry that he was correct and that arrangements would be made. He warned the boy, though, to expect it to take some time. So, months later, Harry was finally getting to meet his neighbours.

Harry's first visit was to take place on a Saturday. Nolly helped him dress in his nicest clothes and then gave him a tea cake to present to his hosts. Then, cake in hand, he and his guardian stepped out the door into the alley for the second time in Harry's memory. Their destination, the Boot family.

Terry Boot was the only other child in the neighbourhood who was exactly Harry's age. This placed the family at the top of Mister Ollivander's list when he sent around simple letters suggesting he and his ward visit for tea. His parents managed Flourish and Blotts, the Alley's most popular bookshop.

"Mister Ollivander, thank you, thank you for coming. It's such a pleasure," Mr Boot gushed upon their arrival. "Please, please call me Dabney."

"Thank you," Ollivander inclined his head. "May I introduce you to my ward, Harry."

"Harry Potter, such a pleasure and indeed an honour!"

Harry looked at the man with wide eyes before a nudge from his guardian reminded him of his manners.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, sir," he said. "Please accept this cake."

"Oh, thank you. Marguerite, look! Harry Potter gave us a cake!"

Mr Boot appeared ready to rush off, before apparently remembering what he was doing and inviting the pair inside. Harry was quickly introduced to Terry, a boy whose eyes were even wider than Harry's had been. The two boys stumbled through their greetings before they and the adults settled themselves for tea. Harry's cake was quickly divided up by Mrs Boot, who seemed just as excited as her husband.

"I played quidditch at Hogwarts you know, Harry," Mr Boot was saying. "Just like your father did! Although I was a seeker. Do you think you'll play?"

"I, er, I don't know yet sir. I may not be any good."

"Oh, of course you will lad! I'm sure you'd be good at anything."

"You and Terry might be great friends by then," Mrs Boot added with a smile. "Won't that be exciting, the pair of you going off to Hogwarts at the same time!"

"Y-yes, that would be fun," Harry said, turning to Terry, only to falter when he saw the other boy still gaping at him.

"How is your wand holding up, Mr Boot," Ollivander suddenly asked. "Apple and unicorn hair I believe?"

"Oh quite well, thank you. I take good care of it, you know. Only a few minor dings over the years."

"And Mrs Boot, I don't think yours is one of mine is it."

"N-no, mine is from France, where I'm from originally," Mrs Boot said. "I-I went to Beaubatons."

"I see," Mister Ollivander said.

"Will young Harry here be learning about wandcraft from you, Mister Ollivander," Mr Boot asked. "I mean, do you hope for him to take over the business one day?"

Ollivander gave his ward a contemplative look.

"It's possible," he began slowly. "We shall see as he gets older if he has an inclination for the art. One's true calling is often hidden from us in our early years."

"Quite," Mr Boot agreed after a somewhat awkward pause.

Harry and Mister Ollivander made it back to their own flat an hour later. Nolly helped Harry with his cloak, while Ollivander talked to him quietly.

"The other families are the Vanes, the Spinnets and the Carmichaels. We'll meet them in time over the next few weeks. If you get along with any of them, I'm sure some further meetings can be arranged," here Ollivander paused to look over his ward again. "How did you find the Boot family."

Harry had a peculiar look on his face as he turned to look at his guardian.

"Other people are odd," he finally declared. "Terry seemed okay, though."

o

Harry met the other children along the alley over the next few weeks and found them mostly quite splendid. He soon became accustomed to the usual gushing and stumbling that seemed to always characterise his first meetings with people and came to accept this as normal. Most people seemed to regain their poise by his second chance to meet them.

As summer eventually arrived, Mister Ollivander made plans for several outings for his ward to meet the other children from the alley or his class for ice-cream. Harry finally got the chance to see Florean Fortescue's shop that he had heard much about over the years. He was not disappointed. He also continued his assumed role of manning the front counter in his guardian's store and greeting new customers as they arrived. It was in this role that he he first got the chance to meet one of his future teachers from Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall was a firm, slightly intimidating woman, but Harry's experience with both the gentle and unnerving sides of his own guardian's personality made him quite comfortable with her. She came in a couple of times that summer escorting muggleborn first years on their first shopping trips.

The Scottish professor also kindly gave him a gift when she dropped in with a student the day before Harry' sixth birthday. Her gift of some An Gleann tablet delighted Harry, who was more than happy to add an extra thank-you letter to his short to-do list. His young friends and their parents also sent a variety of gifts, leaving the six year old well stocked for the coming year.

Summer ended and lessons continued, with Harry and his friends growing up fast. He was the youngest in his class, with others already approaching their seventh birthdays. Hannah and Susan liked to baby him, when they could catch him. Harry was certainly the fastest of their group, and easily the best climber. His small frame could scamper to the top of the now familiar oak tree in mere seconds.

The approach of winter soon kept the children more commonly indoors, where hot chocolate became the favourite treat of the mornings. Before any of the adults were expecting it, Christmas was arriving again.

Mister Ollivander advised Harry early that Professor Dumbledore would be joining them for their Christmas shopping once again. The previous Christmas already seemed so long ago, but Harry could still vaguely remember the white-haired man from that time. What he remembered far more prominently, though, were his weeks spent refining the letter demanding access to other children along the alley. This in mind, he was far less impressed with his visitor this year. Dumbledore, it seemed, placed the blame for this squarely with Ollivander.

"You didn't have to make me out to be quite such a villain, Garrick," he whispered to his companion at one point.

"Didn't I?" Mister Ollivander asked mildly.

"No!" Dumbledore insisted, looking very put out. "You never asked if it was okay to visit neighbours. You didn't need to make the child think I was preventing him from doing anything fun. Him growing up to resent me would be disastrous for everyone."

"Oh, would that be inconvenient for you, old friend? I'd hate to think I'd inconvenienced you."

"Very funny, Garrick," Dumbledore said. "Look, you know what happened last month at the Selwyn house. The fire there was directly linked to the runic wards here. They tried to burn the pair of you alive. The interest in the boy hasn't faded, Garrick. We cannot afford to let our guard down."

The two turned as Harry came running over to them, arms filled with ghastly, gaudy gifts he'd chosen for his friends. The rest of the trip passed pleasantly enough, but this time Dumbledore wasn't gifted any chestnuts.

o

Christmas passed with the usual hubbub and life continued on as normal. Before long, summer was approaching again and Harry and Ollivander geared up for the influx of customers, some more familiar than others.

"Mrs Weasley," Mister Ollivander greeted the red-haired matriarch. "A pleasure as always."

"Hello Mister Ollivander and hello Harry, dear. How are you?"

"Well thank you," Harry said politely, stepping back from the counter to let his guardian do his thing. From amongst the crowd of red-haired children, two identical boys waved at him cheerily.

A gangly boy by the name of Percy was pushed to the front by his brothers and the tape measure set to work on him as Ollivander gathered up boxes of wands to test. Harry stood on his toes to watch his guardian work. As he waited, one of the many boys - this one around his own age - wandered over to talk to him.

"Did you really defeat a mummy with your bare hands?"

"Sorry?" Harry turned to look at the other boy curiously.

"Dad reads Ginny bedtime stories about you. Did you really beat a mummy?"

"Um, no. Sorry."

"I knew it! I knew it was rubbish," the other boy said, elated.

"Ron, be polite!" His mother snapped without even looking at him.

"Sorry mum," the boy, Ron, called out before giving Harry a toothy grin.

"I'm Ron."

"I'm Harry."

"I know."

The two boys looked at each other awkwardly for a moment before Ron grinned again.

"Wanna play dragons?"

Twenty minutes later as a proud Percy pocketed his new wand, Mrs Weasley called Ron away from their rowdy game.

"Are you boys having fun?" She asked, and was greeted by matching grins. "Now, Mister Ollivander, are you by any chance less averse to playdates these days?"

Ollivander smiled benignly at her.

"Harry's summer is kept rather busy, as I'm sure is yours. However, come autumn I'm certain we can arrange something pleasant."

"Oh lovely," Mrs Weasley exclaimed. "Say goodbye to your friend, Ron, it's time to go. Harry dear, I hope you have a wonderful summer."

"Thank you Mrs Weasley," Harry replied with his nicest smile before running behind the counter and off to the back room, waving goodbye to the mass of redheads as he left.

The summer continued peacefully and Harry's seventh birthday came and went as birthdays usually do. He got presents from his friends, Mister Ollivander, and the two Hogwarts professors he knew. Ollivander's gift of a puzzle box had been his clear favourite, even after he'd finally cracked it himself. He informed Nolly happily of all the secret treasures he'd hide in it one day when he was a Hogwarts student. The elf kindly found him some shiny buttons and coins to store in it for now, just so it felt more valuable.

As the summer was coming to an end, though, Harry met one last person.

"Quirinus Quirrell, new muggle studies teacher," the friendly young man introduced himself to Harry, smiling broadly. "Or I guess I say Professor Quirrell now! I'm still getting used to all this."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir. I'll fetch Mister Ollivander."

"No need, Harry, I'm here," Ollivander said, coming through from the back room. "Hello young Quirinus, alder and unicorn hair I believe. Is it still in good order?"

"Professor McGonagall warned me you'd remember everything," Professor Quirrell laughed. "Yes indeed it is, Mister Ollivander. A fine wand. It's always suited me well. You just wait, Harry. Getting your wand is a special moment for everyone, but I'm sure he's saving the best one for you."

This last was delivered to Harry with a wink that made the boy smile.

"And who is this young lady then?"

The girl in question twitched as Ollivander's unnerving gaze switched to her.

"This is Miss Penelope Clearwater," Professor Quirrell introduced her. "She'll be the youngest in her year I think, only just had her birthday. As such, I'm afraid we're trying to fit an awful lot in last minute before September arrives."

"Indeed," Ollivander agreed as his tape measure came flying in to do its job. "It wouldn't do to send a young witch to Hogwarts without her wand."

Harry waved at the nervous older girl, but with her eyes nearly crossed trying to track the tape measure's movements, she didn't seem to see him. The young professor did give him a little wave back, though.

"There, that's a match then," Ollivander said after the usual trials and tests. "Dragon heartstring and walnut. An excellent combination for an intelligent witch. I shall expect to hear more of your exploits once you're older, Miss Clearwater."

Penelope blushed prettily and turned to Quirrell, who was already pulling out coins for the wand.

"Thank you, Mister Ollivander. Here you go. Now Harry," he turned to the boy, smiling, "I do hope I'll see you in Muggle Studies in a few years! It's important to know about more than just ourselves!"

"Mrs Abbott says that too, sir," Harry replied.

"Sounds like a clever lady," the professor said with another friendly wink. "Thanks again, Mister Ollivander. Come along Penelope, I mean Miss Clearwater! Dang, still not getting the hang of this teaching thing!"

The man and girl disappeared out the door, leaving a grinning Harry and an approving Ollivander.

o

As autumn set in, Ollivander again set about rebuilding his stock. This year, Harry hovered around his workbench with far more curiosity than he had in the past.

"What wood is that," he would ask, then half listen to the reply as he examined another blank, his mind already moving on.

"The cores," Ollivander would explain, "go in this hollow down the centre. It's important they go all the way in, straight and undamaged. There's an art to it, but it takes a lot of practice."

"And then is it finished?"

"Oh no, child. There's many further stages to go. The core must be bound and bonded to the wood and the wand itself must have already been shaped in a way so it can channel magic effectively. The handle must also be attached. See, over there. That's the one I've designed for this wand."

"What's this one again?"

"This is aspen, and the core is phoenix feather. A solid combination. I can feel they're a good pairing for each other, they're already itching to bond together. See?" Ollivander took Harry's hand and guided it over the half finished wand without touching it.

Harry could feel his palm tingle slightly as his guardian guided it over the wand.

"That feeling is the core reaching out for the wand itself, trying to connect," Ollivander explained.

Harry smiled at the warm feeling.

"It might actually be a good fit for you one day, Harry. Both aspen and phoenix feather suit you. I could be crafting your future wand this very minute."

"Really?"

"Possibly. Only possibly, mind. We can check though. Here."

Ollivander set the wand down and stood up, guiding Harry to stand in front of him.

"Reach out and pick the wand up, child. Go on, it's unfinished so it can't bond with you now."

Trembling with excitement and nerves, Harry glanced up at his guardian and then slowly reached his hand out. He knew this could be his future right before him and even at his young age that thrilled and terrified him. He let his hand lower down onto the wand. Just as his fingers first touched it, though, Ollivander quickly snatched the wand away.

"No, no, oh dear no," his guardian said, flustered and distracted. "That doesn't fit you at all, my boy! Merlin, a terrible fit!"

He wandered away, muttering to himself, leaving his ward confused and underwhelmed by the whole experience.

o

 _So ends chapter three. I hope you liked it. We've not long now before Hogwarts._

 _Thank you for reading! If you have the time, please leave a review. Any feedback is helpful._


	4. Chapter 4

GREAT THINGS

Chapter 4:

"Harry dear, how are you?"

"Well thank you, Mrs Weasley. It was kind of you to invite me."

Mrs Weasley beamed at him before stepping aside to hustle him through the doorway of the oddly shaped house. Mr Ollivander had received a letter a few weeks into September cordially inviting Harry for a playdate. The four youngest Weasleys were all having friends over and Harry was young Ronald's choice. Following Mrs Weasley now, Harry was starting to wonder what he'd gotten himself into. Two redheaded terrors and another young boy went shouting past him, flinging some sort of slime in their direction. His host already had her wand out, though, and vanished the slime before it hit them.

"Fred! George! Lee! Get back here right now," she shouted before turning back to Harry. "Sorry dear, I'd better go round them up. Those boys will be the death of me! Here's Ron anyway, he'll take you upstairs to play."

She pushed Harry forwards towards the other boy who was hovering at the bottom of a rather rickety looking staircase.

"Hiya Harry," Ron said as his mother rushed off. "Got here okay?"

"Oh yes, Professor Dumbledore 'parated me," Harry replied.

Ron gaped at him.

"Professor Dumbledore! Wow! What's he like?"

"Oh, he's okay," Harry said. "He wears funny robes. Mister Ollivander says he gets nervous when I'm travelling somewhere new."

"Weird," Ron said.

He grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him up the stairs, still chattering the whole way up. The boys passed Ron's younger sister and a blonde girl who barely seemed to notice them. Ron's sister poked her tongue out at her brother before catching Harry's eye and smiling awkwardly. He and Ron soon arrived at the top of the stairs and their destination.

"It's not much," Ron said, gesturing out around him. "But I get it to myself now Percy's not here."

It was a little attic room with two small beds. There were a couple of toy boxes and two old wardrobe's against the wall. What caught Harry's attention, though, was the window box and the view it held of the garden outside.

"Look at the size of that tree! Have you climbed it?"

Ron blinked at him for a moment before grinning. Seconds later they were thundering back down the stairs, past the girls and through the kitchen where the other three boys were being scolded by Mrs Weasley. Out in the yard, they were quickly up the first few branches shouting happily at each other as they went.

The rest of the morning held an epic battle to maintain ownership of their tree from the twins and Lee, who had made it their mission to claim it back from the younger 'babies'. The air was a flurry of twig-shaped missiles flying up and down between the warring groups. Ron and Harry maintained dominance as their slighter size made it easy for them to hold on to the higher branches. Harry was braver, leaping about with ease, but Ron's gangly limbs gave him a greater range between the swaying boughs.

Mrs Weasley eventually called all five boys back indoors for lunch, where the girls were already tucking into sandwiches. They feasted quickly, laughing amongst themselves. The girls, Ginny and Luna, quickly warmed up to the company and joined in on the joking before running out while the boys were still finishing. The boys made it back into the garden soon after only to discover that the two six-year-olds had taken over the top of the tree. Luna was swaying back and forth on the highest branch while Ginny laughed down at her brothers.

"Well now what," Ron said.

His two brothers looked around for a minute, before one brightened up.

"D'you know how to fly, Harry?"

Flying, Harry discovered, was even better than climbing. He and Ron were on what the twins called 'kiddie brooms' and were being carefully supervised by Mrs Weasley, but as Harry flew around with his toes skimming the grass, he'd never felt freer. The twins - whose brooms had been locked at six feet off the ground by their mother - attempted to dive at the two younger boys, but their aim wasn't refined enough yet to truly disturb them.

"When we're older, we can play quidditch," Ron shouted to Harry as they flew around. "I'm going to be in the Cannons one day!"

"What're the cannons?"

Ron stared at him and nearly ran into a bush. What followed while they flew was the best explanation a seven-year-old could give of the professional quidditch league. Once he finally understood it, Harry was quite enchanted by the idea of professional sports and vowed to bring it up with Mrs Abbott the following week.

The rest of the day passed wonderfully, before Mr Ollivander finally arrived to collect his charge. Harry happily waved goodbye to Ron and the others and politely thanked Mrs Weasley for her hospitality, before grabbing hold of his guardian for the apparition. The morning trip with Professor Dumbledore had been his first experience of it, but Harry quickly decided he much preferred it with his guardian. A hand on his shoulder was more typically Mr Ollivander's way of showing approval or pride and Harry treasured it each time. Arriving home, Nolly quickly had her two charges warm and fed, before Harry was happily tucked into bed to dream of flying amongst the clouds while twin red-headed birds threw twigs at him.

o

The weeks between then and Christmas passed peacefully. Harry's classes continued as normal and Mr Ollivander's business started to quiet down ready for winter. Harry saw his new friend Ron twice more, once at the Burrow again and once when Mrs Weasley dropped in at the store whilst shopping in the Alley. The boys now got on famously. Their shared interest in sports, dragons and bodily functions was about all a pair of seven-year-olds needed to have in common. Mr Ollivander and Mrs Weasley soon also learnt that the pair shared equally terrible taste in Christmas presents, gifting each other with horrid, gaudy objects. Sweets, Ollivander resolved, would be what he suggested Harry buy his friends from now on.

Harry loved the brightly flashing garden gnome ornament Ron had chosen, but was even more chuffed with the warm green jumper he received from Mrs Weasley. He wore it happily around the house the whole day and then used all his stubbornness to gain Nolly's permission to wear it to bed that night.

Harry drifted off quickly that Christmas night listening to Nolly bustle about and knowing Ollivander was nearby, reading. He woke up a few hours later, though, with a horrible foreboding feeling. The house was eerily silent, far colder than it should be, and he couldn't see the light from the fireplace under his door.

"M-Mister Ollivander?" Harry called out. "Nolly?"

Nolly popped in immediately, only for a frightful bang to sound from outside, eliciting shrieks from both boy and elf. Harry's bedroom window went from darkness to a sickening yellow glow that seemed to slam into it repeatedly. As the crashing continued and the wave of horrid light seemed to move upward, Mr Ollivander rushed in.

Magic flew from his wand, whipping the curtains closed. Running forward, he picked Harry up out of bed and rushed into the living room with the boy in his arms. Grabbing the floo powder, he threw it into the fireplace, only to have no response. This only stalled him for a minute.

" _Auror auxilum_ ," he cast into the air before setting Harry down. "Nolly, grab hold of Harry and transport him to Hogwarts, straight to Dumbledore. He has you keyed in. Then come straight back to me."

"Yes Master Ollivander," Nolly said, pulling her ears.

She clutched Harry's hand tightly and before he knew it, he was standing somewhere completely different. He was in a round, ornate room with a large bed to one side. Professor Dumbledore was just sitting up in it, looking very startled. Nolly disappeared with a pop and reappeared moments later with Mr Ollivander. The little elf looked around at them all for a minute before bursting into tears. Harry himself started to breath rather quickly.

"Garrick?" Professor Dumbledore said as the other man placed a calming hand on his ward's shoulder. "What on earth is going on?"

"An attack, I believe," Mister Ollivander replied. "Someone is trying to breach my shop with a ghastly flame spell I didn't recognise. It hasn't breached, but the roof appeared to be aflame when I left."

"Stay here," Dumbledore said, his bedclothes quickly changing into robes as he rose.

"I've summoned the aurors already," Ollivander told him as he rushed past. "They should be arriving by now."

"Then I'll meet them there."

What followed was a tense forty minutes. Once Nolly stopped crying, Mister Ollivander sent her to fetch cocoa for the three of them. Harry was calming down but was settling into shock. They sipped their drinks in silence, broken only by Nolly's sniffles every few minutes. After what felt like an age, a frazzled looking Dumbledore finally returned.

"Rupert Nott," he announced, eliciting a sigh from Ollivander. "His magical signature was captured by your wards. Aurors arrested him at Nott Manor."

"He'd be getting old," Mr Ollivander observed, "Maybe he wanted to give it a try before he missed his chance."

"Most likely," Dumbledore agreed, settling himself into a plush armchair and looking much older than Harry had seen him before.

"He has a son, though, around Harry's age," he continued. "Custody won't be announced until his father has been tried, but given their status I'm sure one of the other old families will be a close enough relation to take him in."

"Let us hope the fall of the father won't shape the rise of the child," Ollivander said gravely.

"I always do," Dumbledore replied.

"I- I don't understand," Harry finally spoke up. "What happened? Why did someone attack us?"

The two old men exchanged a glance. Both looked wary, but after a few seconds a sort of sad acceptance seemed to pass over both their faces. Ollivander shifted Harry slightly forward and turned him to face the professor.

"Harry," Dumbledore began, "Let me tell you about Tom Riddle."

o

The weeks that followed passed in a kind of daze for Harry. The following morning he was whisked off to Bones Manor to stay with Susan and her aunt. The pair did their best to keep him entertained, but Harry's already quiet manner was now even solemner. Mister Ollivander was spending his days at his shop, overseeing the repair of the wards. He'd arrive in the evenings to take dinner with them, but was otherwise mostly unavailable. Dumbledore, too, would drop by when he could and gift the children with sweets before talking quietly with Madame Bones.

Rupert Nott was finally tried and sentenced in early February. With his Dark Mark now included as evidence, he was also tried for his crimes from the previous war and was sentenced to a total 25 years in Azkaban. He was an old man, one of Voldemort's earliest followers, and was not expected to survive his sentence. His younger wife had died some years ago, leaving no one for his son, Theodore, but the boy was quickly taken in by the Montague family. None of this was known by Harry but he was very relieved when Dumbledore came by to tell him that the 'bad man' who'd attacked his home was now in prison.

Ollivander waited a further month after the trial to reopen the shop, wanting to wait for the public interest to die down. He faced a greater battle getting Dumbledore to permit Harry's return. With the law on his side, though, he and Dumbledore soon came to an arrangement that suited both of them. Harry would stay at the manor for a few extra weeks for the sake of caution, before returning quietly in early April. He was at least allowed to return to his classes with Mrs Abbott.

Harry was greeted by shouts and shrieking on his first day back.

"I was so worried!" Hannah wailed, clinging to the now sheepish boy.

"I _told_ you he was fine, Hannah," Susan said.

Anthony and Daphne also crowded around him, asking questions and generally checking he was okay.

"Alright, alright, everyone calm down," Mrs Abbott finally said, smiling at them all. "Harry is fine, just as Susan promised. Now lets all sit down and we'll begin lessons."

Harry's normality returned over the following weeks, helped greatly by his over-attentive friends. By the time he was due to return to Diagon Alley, he was back to his normal self.

Ollivander finally brought him back to the flat late one evening. It was already past seven and Harry was yawning as he said his goodbyes to Madame Bones and Susan. He and Ollivander were then whisked away in the fireplace back to the flat he called home. Stumbling out, he steadied himself and looked around. The flat was exactly as he remembered. It even smelt like home. In front of the kitchen, he saw Nolly smiling anxiously at him.

"Master Harry, are you being happy with everything?"

Harry looked at her, then up at his guardian, before letting out a happy sigh.

"Home is wonderful."

o

The next few months went swimmingly for the small family. The public soon got used to Harry's presence again and his appearances in the shop soon stopped causing any stir. By summer, Harry was happily minding the counter once more. Ollivander also continued to include Harry in his crafting process, letting him watch and explaining the lore behind each wood and core. After Harry's eighth birthday, Ollivander started to let him shape some of the easier woods and gifted him a small knife to carve them down to a rough wand shape. When Dumbledore queried the involvement, the old man justified it as good practice for working with potions ingredients one day soon.

Harry's role behind the counter continued to give him the chance to meet his future peers at Hogwarts, and to speak with the professors who accompanied some of them. McGonagall and Quirrell still held these duties and Harry grew more and more fond of both of them. He shared his knowledge of the pair with his classmates and Ron, who all agreed they sounded like future favourite teachers.

As the summer wound down and Christmas approached, Dumbledore received yet another unwelcome letter from Mr Ollivander informing him that Harry would be taking a morning off class to accompany his guardian on a wood gathering trip. It took two weeks of letters back and forth, but permission was eventually granted for a four hour walk through the woods.

"Chestnut," Ollivander reminded Harry as they walked "Is a very versatile wood. It suits many a different wielder, often not the ones you'd expect. Remember that, child."

Harry nodded, trotting along behind his guardian and clutching the heavy basket he'd been handed.

"Why do you harvest it in November, Mister Ollivander?"

"Ah, that's due to the tree's dormant period. The leaves will have turned golden and many will already have fallen, but the tree has not truly fallen into its winter sleep," Ollivander said. "We must select our woods whilst there is still energy to capture, but in earlier seasons, much of this energy will have been devoted to leaves and fruits."

Harry nodded again and continued to follow after his guardian. The woods seemed so open and empty to him as they trudged through. He had no idea they were also being trailed by multiple aurors, all having been hand selected by Dumbledore who himself was nervously sitting at Hogwarts awaiting any emergencies.

Ollivander eventually found a tree he was happy with and carefully selected the right wood samples, dropping them into Harry's proffered basket. Then on they moved to look for another.

Hours later, they eventually made it back to the shop. Harry's cheeks were flushed and rosy from the cold and his hands were starting to feel numb inside his gloves. Nolly already had lunch prepared for the pair and they sat in comfortable silence for a while, warming themselves back up.

"Will we go out again for the other woods soon?" Harry eventually asked.

"No, child," Ollivander said. "I'll gather the others whilst you're in class, as I normally do. Your lessons are more important."

"Oh, okay."

The rest of the meal passed in silence before Ollivander then left for his workshop. Harry remained upstairs, reading. It was a quiet day and there was little point hovering behind the counter today.

Christmas arrived as normal that year, but this time with a slight change following it. Harry had been invited to the Burrow for Boxing Day to have lunch. Harry happily attended and found all the Weasley boys were home for once. The eldest, Bill, was in his final year at Hogwarts and was Head Boy. With this in mind, Harry kept himself entertained asking questions about all the Hogwarts teachers, particularly the two he already knew. He was pleased to learn that they were both apparently excellent.

Harry also took the chance to inform a jealous Ron that his class was finally being taken to see a quidditch match in the new year. They were supposed to just sit in the stands, but Dumbledore had come up trumps and arranged a box for them in the name of security. This had raised his appeal in the eyes of all the children and Harry had once again deigned to send him a Christmas gift that year. Ron, Ginny and the twins were all homeschooled by their mother, who wasn't in a position to arrange such adventures for them, leaving Ron a little sad to be missing out. Harry reassured his friend that he was equally jealous of Ron's huge yard and the giant tree he got to enjoy.

The first half of 1989 flew by. Harry attended his first quidditch match (Puddlemere versus Tutshill) and loved every minute of it. Anthony was the only one of their group to be unimpressed as he hadn't appreciated how long the game took. The others declared quidditch their new favourite activity, although only Daphne had much experience on a broom. She apparently knew other children from some of the older wizarding families who all took flying lessons, prompting her parents to arrange the same for her. Harry shared his own experience of flying at the Burrow, much to the envy of Hannah and Susan who both declared it their mission to acquire brooms.

Summer that year arrived quickly and Harry was kept busy in the shop as usual. He was now a dab hand at carving and could make blank wands for his guardian fairly quickly. He still wasn't allowed near the most temperamental woods, but he now knew as much as he could about each of them. He entertained himself watching his guardian's clients and trying to guess what kind of wands Mr Ollivander would bring out for them. The most exciting came of course when the two Weasley twins came in for their wands.

"Ah, Mrs Weasley, a pleasure to see you as always," Mr Ollivander greeted her when the brood arrived.

"Hiya Ron!" Harry said, beaming.

"Hiya Harry."

"Now quiet you two," Mrs Weasley said in a mock stern voice, shooing Ron forward towards his friend. "Mister Ollivander, I'm sure you know who we're here for this time."

"Of course. Now young Fred and George, do you believe you're ready?" Ollivander said, fixing them both with his eerie stare.

The pair gulped in unison, terribly nervous for once. Harry and Ron watched in amusement as the measuring tape set to work. Mr Ollivander was already gathering up boxes of wands for the pair.

"He'll have dogwood for them," Harry predicted to Ron in a whisper.

"Dogwood and phoenix feather," Ollivander said, proving his ward right immediately. "Here you are young Mister Weasley. Give that a try… no, that's not it. Pass it to your brother now for a go."

"Fred, behave!" Mrs Weasley scolded as her son immediately attempted to use it on his siblings.

The wand gave no response to either and Ollivander quickly move on to the next one.

"Same wood, different core. Try this one with dragon heartstring. No, that's better but still not right. Pass it to your brother again, boy."

It took only three more goes before a match was found for George. Larch and dragon heartstring was the final combination and, recognising the similarity of his clients, Ollivander quickly set about searching for an identical combination for Fred. Harry was disappointed his prediction of dogwood hadn't been fulfilled, but was far more worried about the risk of the already dangerous twins now being able to wield magic.

"You'll be lucky to survive until they leave for Hogwarts," he half joked to Ron.

"Mum says she's taking them off them right away and they can't have them back until the train," Ron reassured him. "I think she knows they'd bring the house down around us."

True enough, George had somehow already managed to flick a bit of wild magic at Percy, tripling the length of his eyebrows.

"Oh George-"

"It's Fred, Mum!"

"No, it's George," Harry whispered to Ron.

"How do you always know?" Ron asked his friend.

"Ollivander says observation is essential," Harry said. "If you want to find someone a wand you need to be able to tell what they're like straight away. They're not _actually_ identical anyway. They're just very, very, very similar."

"Whatever," Ron rolled his eyes with a grin.

The Weasleys were soon herded out the door by their mother, who held the twins' confiscated wands in her pocket.

"Dogwood was a good choice," Ollivander reassured his ward. "It was close to a match for them."

"Yes, it was close" Harry sighed. "Oh well, I'll guess the next one."

o

Fred and George's departure to Hogwarts left the Burrow rather quiet for once. Bill had now graduated and was back living at home but he made it abundantly clear that it was only temporary while he completed his apprenticeship at Gringotts. His chosen career opened a whole new option up for Ron and Harry. The idea of daring, dangerous adventures appealed to both the boys and even to Anthony once Harry told him. Interestingly enough it also appealed to little Ginny Weasley, who had always called Bill her favourite brother. With the twins gone she was far more commonly included in Ron's games and rarely wished to play the helpless victim.

Harry was still only an infrequent visitor at the Burrow. His schedule was mostly taken up by his classes and as such his friendship with the other children continued to grow. Daphne, he'd found, was one of the best people to talk to. The other girls were too boisterous and chatty in large doses, whilst Anthony preferred books to almost any company. Daphne, though, could appreciate Harry's quiet company and the pair could often be found with their heads together, planning their futures. It was through Daphne that Harry started to get some insight into some of his other future classmates.

"There's Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Neville Longbottom and a few others," Daphne explained to him one day. "They're all from old, longstanding wizarding families. Do you remember when Mrs Abbott explained the Wizengamot?"

"Yeah?"

"Well the Malfoys and the Longbottoms both have seats," she said. "That makes Draco and Neville heirs. I've only met Draco, but I expect they'll both be pretty high and mighty at Hogwarts. Although there are rumours that Neville Longbottom is a squib."

"I met Neville once," Susan piped up from where she and Hannah were playing. "He's a bit shy actually. He's got a terrible stutter."

"A pureblood heir with a stutter?" Daphne curled her nose. "That's not going to help him much."

"Maybe as he gets older he'll come into himself," Harry said, quietly.

Ollivander was also keeping the rest of Harry's schedule full. Now that Harry was nine, Ollivander declared his time was wasted by simply hovering behind the counter playing shop-boy. He continued to teach his ward the intricacies of wand-craft, but also began setting him a stricter reading regimen on the subjects he'd one day learn at Hogwarts. Basic guides to Charms and Transfiguration were soon purchased and Harry was given the task of learning as much of the underlying theory as he could.

"You must have firm foundations if you hope to build a masterpiece," Ollivander told him. "And you, child, are mine."

Harry beamed at this and happily set to work absorbing the information. Come Christmas that year, for the first time ever he requested more books than Anthony did.

As spring rolled around, Ollivander turned Harry's focus to Herbology, somehow convincing Mrs Abbott to do the same. A portion of her garden was therefore turned over to the students to grow common magical plants and learn their uses. Daphne told Harry her mother had the same idea as Mister Ollivander and had arranged a tutor for Daphne and her younger sister to learn the basics of their Hogwarts subjects.

"Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Defence and History. And that's on top of the etiquette tutor," Daphne said from where she swung back and forth on a branch.

"You have an etiquette tutor?" Harry asked his friend, gaping.

"Oh yes, most of the older families insist on it," Daphne said. "You should consider one for yourself, you uncouth peasant."

Harry pouted, then flicked a twig at her before making his signature clamber/fall down the tree to rejoin their friends. Daphne followed at a more sedate pace, calling to him that he was only proving her point. She was heckled by her friends for the rest of the morning.

Harry already learnt most of what he needed for History from Mrs Abbott and his guardian was happy to leave it that way. He also informed his ward that observation was by far the most helpful skill he could have for Defence and was happy for Harry to continue to hone this skill and call that enough.

Summer came around again and Harry's job behind the counter became busier. This year he'd set himself the challenge of trying to replicate his guardian's trick of remembering every face. So far he was doing quite well at it. The public found it much less eerie coming from the young boy and instead found his politeness endearing. There were still newcomers, of course, particularly new students preparing for their first year at Hogwarts. With them came another new face that wasn't nearly so enchanted by Harry's manners.

"Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to Ollivander's," Harry greeted the sour faced man. "I'll fetch Mister Ollivander for you right away."

"No need, Harry, I'm here. Hello Professor Snape, how are you today?"

"Impatient," the man said. "Mister Llewellyn here needs his wand."

The boy in question gulped and stepped forward. Ollivander gave Harry a nod and he rushed to collect some wands for him to test.

"You let the boy choose wands," Professor Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Only recently," Ollivander replied. "His talent is still developing, but he's proven capable of making some good selections, albeit broader than my own."

"I suppose everyone must learn a skill," Snape said, still watching Harry. "After all, not all of us can rely on _fame_ to pave the way."

"Indeed," Ollivander said.

"Please sir," Harry said, returning, "Can we expect Professor Quirrell to visit sometime this summer?"

The professor gave him a long, unimpressed look before deigning to answer.

"My esteemed colleague Professor Quirrell has agreed to teach Defence in 1991," he said. "He's taken this next twelve months off to travel and prepare for the role."

Here the professor paused for a minute, seemingly assessing Harry and finding him wanting.

"You would do well, Mister Potter, to not form attachments to professors before you've even started at Hogwarts. You never know how long they may last."

The Llewellyn boy was soon found a wand and fled the shop ahead of his terrifying guide, clearly in a rush to end his shopping trip. Harry and Ollivander watched the pair leave.

"He dislikes me," Harry said quietly.

"That he does," Ollivander agreed. "You anger him greatly and he resents you for something else. There is grief there, too."

"Do you know why?" Harry asked.

Ollivander shook his head and began packing away the unchosen wands.

"I'm afraid not, child. Come the end of the summer you will begin studying potions ernest. It appears you must develop some considerable skill there, if you wish to avoid what looks to be a rather uncomfortable situation."

o

Ollivander was true to his word and set Harry a heavy schedule for his final year at home. A corner of Nolly's kitchen was turned over to a cauldron and brewing station and Ollivander began teaching him what he could. Textbook after textbook was purchased and Harry was expected to have large lists of definitions and processes memorised. As always, he didn't mind at all and set about trying his best to impress his guardian.

Potions, Harry learnt, required you to be both meticulous and methodical. There was no room for impatience or improvisation and skimming or bludging could have disastrous results. It was an exacting art, much like wand making, although not nearly so enjoyable. It would never be Harry's favourite subject, but he felt a deep sense of pride each time Mister Ollivander examined one of his completed projects and deemed it acceptable.

Harry shared details of his progress with Ron when he visited before Christmas. His friend was slightly less keen to begin learning so early.

"That sounds dead boring, Harry. I mean, isn't that what we're supposed to go to Hogwarts for?"

"Well yes, but some of it's really tricky," Harry argued. "I mean, wouldn't you rather have a look in advance? That way if you're rubbish at it you can find out now and practice instead of making an idiot of yourself in front of everybody."

"Blimey, I didn't think of that," Ron said. "D'you reckon everyone else will have done what you're doing?"

"I don't know. I mean, the muggleborns won't have since they don't know about it yet, but I bet most others will have. I mean, we're all ten now. Some are already eleven. Pansy Parkinson even came in for her wand!"

"How'd she manage that before summer?"

Harry shrugged.

"Her father got her some sort of exception. A couple always do, and Ollivander says other keep spare wands at home."

"I should read a little then," Ron said, looking firmly resolved. "D'you reckon you could bring some of your books with you next time you come 'round?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Fun ones, though," Ron clarified. "None of the boring stuff yet."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Okay Ron, fun books only. Hey, did you know there's a potion that can turn someone's skin any colour you want for weeks? And it's dead easy!"

Ron perked up, then looked briefly sly.

"You know, the twins are coming home for Christmas…"

Small, gleeful smiles quickly spread across both boys faces.

"Here's how we'll do it."

o

We're nearly at Hogwarts now.

Merry Christmas. I hope you all enjoy a lovely holiday season. Please review if you have the time.


	5. Chapter 5

GREAT THINGS

Chapter 5:

Harry's last Christmas before Hogwarts somehow seemed more significant than those before it. Of course to Harry they were _all_ rather spectacular, but this year even Ollivander seemed more invested. Their yearly shopping trip with Dumbledore was taken much more seriously than most had been, with both men impressing upon Harry the need to take his gift choosing seriously. Dumbledore seemed less cheery and more mystical than previously, reminding Harry somewhat of his own guardian. His robes, however, remained ridiculous.

Christmas day itself was joyous and filled with laughter. Harry received his usual collection of books, sweets and trinkets. Ollivander gifted him with stacks of books and a small model dragon that Harry decided would go in his treasured puzzle box from a few years ago. He also got books from Anthony and Daphne. Daphne had sent him _Britain's Grandest Families_ which Harry flicked through curiously and soon found his own family name written between Peverell and Prince. _You had probably best start learning who to avoid_ , Daphne had written in the front. Ron and the other girls had sent sweets, as had Terry Boot and some of the other children from the Alley. Harry kept all the gift tags carefully, knowing Mister Ollivander expected him to send thank you notes over the next few days.

His most significant gift came from Ollivander himself at the end of their unwrapping. It was a long, delicate looking piece of silver thread. Harry instantly knew what it was.

"A core threader!"

The threader was an incredibly expensive device that most wizards would never know to identify. It was thinner than acromantula silk and twice at strong, capable of going as stiff as steel or of being gently guided through tiny, looping curves. It was the most essential device a modern wand maker needed to make truly refined wands.

"Am I truly ready?" Harry asked, eyes wide.

"Yes, child," Ollivander said. "You've practiced for years and your woodwork is equal to mine. It's time you started learning all the other stages of the craft."

"Oh, is that what the book of druid blessings is for," Harry said, hunting through his pile of gifts to unearth it again. "And the one on runes!"

"Exactly. As I've told you before, one must have firm foundations if one hopes to build a masterpiece."

Harry beamed at his guardian, holding his books and the threader close.

The rest of the day passed smoothly. Nolly was appropriately impressed by Harry's presents when he showed them off to her and she seemed thrilled with the oven mitts he gave to her. The small family enjoyed their Christmas dinner with the quiet peace of those that are truly comfortable in each other's company.

Harry didn't attend the Weasley's Boxing Day celebration that year, instead staying home with Mr Ollivander. Under his careful guidance, Harry made his first attempt at utilising his new threader. He did pay a visit to The Burrow a few days later and spent it talking quietly with Ron. Ron had proved an enthusiastic study of the very select material Harry brought with him on his visits. Anything "fun" was absorbed quickly by both boys. Ron was also developing a particular fondness for potions, for sheer practical reasons. Knowing the twins would always have two extra years of magic study on him, he had no wish to challenge his brothers in direct combat. Ever the strategist, he'd decided potions offered his best chance of setting up a permanent defence and was passionately studying antidotes and magic-resistant ingredients. He'd declared potions to be his future favourite subject, pleasing his mother and leading the twins to decide that their best prank would be to _not_ prepare him for Professor Snape.

The new year soon arrived and Harry returned to classes for their final six months. Mrs Abbott seemed slightly stricter now than she had in the past and gave them writing assignments to complete each weekend. She reassured them that this would set them in good stead for Hogwarts where such work would be constantly expected. Harry promptly relayed this to a dismayed Ron who began trying to do more writing of his own. His mother was naturally thrilled and hoped he would bring home results similar to Percy's over the twins'. Ron confided in his sister that nothing sounded more horrifying. He was hoping to follow Charlie's path to quidditch captaincy instead.

All the children in Harry's life were now starting to get excited about Hogwarts and all promised each other they'd remain close friends. Mrs Abbott was incredibly proud of her class, but had made her own guesses about their eventual Houses. She was fairly certain they wouldn't all be together. She thus chose to dedicate some class time to embedding tolerance into her young brood's psyche.

"All the Houses have benefits," she told them one day. "Loyalty, courage, intelligence and ambition are all wonderful characteristics. Equally, all of them can lead to negative consequences, too."

"How can loyalty be bad," Hannah asked.

Susan nodded along, too.

"Any quality can be corrupted," Mrs Abbott said. "Do you remember learning about the Death Eaters? They were loyal to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, even when it defied logic. Many of them committed atrocities in his name as a result. Equally, blind courage without thought can lead to incredible, unnecessary danger. As another example, intelligence can be wasted on unworthy subjects, as can ambition. Do you understand?"

All the children nodded.

"So none of the Houses are truly good or bad," Anthony said. "It's down to how individuals and the choices they make."

"And the opportunities they're given," Daphne continued for him.

Mrs Abbott beamed at them all.

"Exactly."

"How will we be assigned a House?" Harry asked. "None of the books are very clear."

"Ah, that's because it's a surprise for every new Hogwarts student," Mrs Abbott said with a cheerful wink. "And I'm certainly not going to ruin it for you!"

o

It took until their final summer for Harry to get truly excited about Hogwarts. All the students had returned from school and filled the alley with their happy shouting. Harry couldn't wait to feel amongst them and paid careful attention to those who came in for new wands that year, knowing they were his future classmates.

The new first years had clearly been forewarned by their parents about their future, famous classmate and most had set a goal of being best friends. Many were excited to meet him, others were more like Terry Boot had first been and simply gaped at him in awe. One young boy called Seamus nearly left the store without his wand, he was so busy waving at Harry. Harry himself found it all rather amusing. He was used to odd reactions by this point and most people quickly snapped out of it.

The purebloods and the muggleborn students were the most interesting to him. Most of the purebloods made grand entrances and appeared keen to impress Harry, although some looked at him with utter distain. The Greengrasses were one of the few normal ones and came in with Daphne. She left with an elm and unicorn hair wand, looking very pleased with herself.

Another older family Harry had heard about, the Malfoys, also came in early in the summer.

"You must be Harry Potter," the young blond boy said importantly. "I'm Draco Malfoy."

He stepped forward extending his hand, only to bump into the wards that guarded the counter. Harry smiled at him sheepishly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said. "Are you looking forward to Hogwarts?"

"Naturally," the boy said, before Ollivander drew his attention to wand matching.

He left with a hawthorn and unicorn hair wand, bidding Harry goodbye in the grandest manner Harry had ever seen.

The muggleborns of course had no idea who he was and responded to Ollivander and his wares in their usual, daunted way. Harry found this rather refreshing, even if he was disappointed to still not see Professor Quirrell as their guide. This year Professor McGonagall brought all the muggleborn students in herself to select their wands. None of Harry's own wands were amongst those on the shelves, of course. He wasn't yet skilled enough to make a truly usable wand, although some of his efforts had turned out very nicely. Ollivander warned him it would take until he was an adult himself and with full control of his magic to produce a really refined wand. Harry was just hoping to produce something vaguely functional in the next few years.

Soon enough, Harry's birthday arrived. He received a small mountain of presents from all his favourite people and had made a delightful, highly supervised trip to Fortescue's for ice-cream with his friends. He was most excited for the arrival of his Hogwarts letter, which came in the afternoon after everything had died down.

"It's here, it's here," he shouted, watching the owl approach.

He beat Nolly to the owl and had the letter free and open in seconds.

"Dear Mister Potter, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at _Hogwarts_!" He read aloud, beaming at Ollivander who gave him a kind smile.

Harry flew through the letter and rushed on to his supply list.

"The Standard Book of Spells, A History of Magic-" Harry went quiet as he eagerly read through the rest of the list. "I've already got most of these, Mister Ollivander."

"What an amazing coincidence," his guardian said dryly.

Harry laughed.

"Come," his guardian beckoned him, standing from his own chair. "There's one other thing we must do on your birthday."

Harry followed his guardian downstairs into the shop, quickly gaining an inkling of what they were about to do. Reaching the front room, Ollivander turned to Harry and gave him a nod.

"Go on, child. Which wands would you select for yourself?"

Harry looked at his guardian uncertainly, but then took a breath and began to cast his eyes over the shelves. He made several selections he thought were suitable, then brought them back to the front bench where Ollivander was waiting. Dropping the boxes down, he picked up the first one and began to open it.

"Aspen and dragon heartstring," he said, quietly.

He ran his hand over it, feeling it calling to him. He picked it up and gave it a wave, but the connection wasn't strong enough to produce a response. He was briefly disheartened, having wanted to get it right the first time. Shaking it off, he placed it back in its box and moved onto the next one.

"Ebony and phoenix feather."

This one felt even stronger, but a wave only sent some boxes flying. Harry set it down with a sigh and moved on to his third choice, then his fourth. His fifth choice felt somehow different. He could feel a strong pull, luring him closer to it.

"Beech and phoenix feather, twelve inches. A little springy."

Harry picked up the wand and felt a rush of magic suddenly amass. The wand seemed to sing, calling out to him. And yet-

"Nothing," Harry said. "Still nothing."

He turned to his guardian, upset.

"I can _feel_ it calling to me. I know it's right. Why won't it work properly? What's wrong with me?"

Ollivander sighed and stepped forward. He laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, looking his ward in the eye.

"Set it down, son."

Harry's eyes went wide and he did so obediently.

"Go back there between the shelves," Ollivander continued and Harry did. "Now stay very still and close your eyes. Reach out to the wands and try and feel for something calling to you. Something that doesn't feel right the way the last one did, but feels needed instead."

Harry stood still and silent for a few moments as Mister Ollivander watched him. Slowly, Harry raised his arm up until it was pointing at one of the shelves. The boxes shifted as a rattle sounded, before one box shot out and landed with a slap in Harry's waiting hand. He frantically pulled the wand out and instantly sparks shot into the air. Red and gold surrounded him, giving him a nearly ethereal glow. Ollivander watched him from near the counter, packing up the boxes Harry had left.

"W-what does it mean?" Harry asked when the sparks had finally died down.

"It means Dumbledore may be right after all," Ollivander said.

Harry looked at him, awaiting more information.

"The professor believes you have the mark of destiny on you, Harry. I believe he knows of a prophecy, but he has not chosen to share its details. The wand you chose for yourself, the beech wand, is likely a true choice for you. However, it appears destiny requires you to have the one you now hold."

"I don't understand," Harry said.

"That wand is the brother wand of the one which chose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Ollivander told him. "The phoenix feather within it came from the same bird which provided the core for his."

Harry looked at his guardian for a further moment before sighing.

"Something's going to happen one day, isn't it."

"You have a difficult path to tread, child," Ollivander said by way of agreement. "But you needn't tread it alone."

"What if I don't want to," Harry asked, a sob clear in his voice as his eyes welled up.

Ollivander crossed the floor between them and knelt in front of him, grasping his shoulders.

"Then we will run."

"R-really?"

"Really," Ollivander said. "If that's what you want in the end. But somehow, I think you will be up for any challenge. For now, you have your wand and you will go to Hogwarts like any other child. Everything else is for the future, and we'll prepare for it as best we can."

Harry sniffed and rubbed his nose with his new wand, earning a look from his guardian. He smiled at the older man.

"Okay."

o

The next few weeks flew along, filled with busy preparations for Harry's departure. His school texts were already mostly amongst his personal book collection, but gloves, robes, potions ingredients and all other manner of odds and sods required purchasing. Dumbledore, for once, had predicted that a shopping trip would be requested and had arranged for Harry to accompany Susan and her aunt when they went for her school supplies. The pair had a wonderful time running through the stores and gossiping about all their new classmates that Harry had started to meet in the wand shop.

"Have you met Neville Longbottom yet?" Susan asked at one point. "Little mousy boy with big round cheeks."

"No, I don't think so," Harry said. "Maybe he'll come in sometime this week. There's not long left now."

"I hope so," Susan said. "He's awfully dull, but I'd hate to think he really did end up being a squib. His grandmother is _awful_. It would be horrid to be stuck behind with her whilst the rest of us go off to Hogwarts."

Harry pulled a face, then ducked between a few more shelves looking for a charms text Ollivander had recommended.

Harry's final day at home was spent happily helping in the shop, knowing he and Nolly had packed his trunk perfectly the day before. He received visits from many of Diagon Alley's residents, including a teary Florean Fortescue with one last ice-cream for him. Ollivander took particular care packing up Harry's wand making tools, both of them having agreed it wasn't worth taking them to Hogwarts to be damaged. At the end of the day Harry went back upstairs for a wonderful surprise.

Knowing his ward required a familiar, Ollivander had sent Nolly down to the Owl Emporium. When Harry came in, she was in his bedroom beaming at him with a snowy owl already resting on an owl perch at the end of his bed.

"She's beautiful," Harry said, awed.

"What will you call her?" Ollivander asked, coming up behind them.

Harry paused and took on a serious expression. Such decisions were highly important. Soon enough, he'd made his choice.

"Hedwig."

"An excellent choice," Mr Ollivander said.

"Now dinner for both masters," Nolly said. "Then off to bedsies with you!"

Harry laughed and ran through to the kitchen where Nolly had already popped, while Mister Ollivander followed behind at a far calmer pace.

The three enjoyed one last dinner and then one last breakfast the next morning before Ollivander prepared to take Harry down to the station for the very first time. They took a car, prearranged by Dumbledore and the Ministry. They expected to make good time, but the typical London morning traffic meant they arrived with a far smaller window that Ollivander would have liked.

"Come along now, child. Fetch one of those trolleys and we'll load your trunk up. We need to walk quickly."

Harry trotted off obediently and returned with a trolley that they quickly loaded full. Ollivander had placed a notice-me-not charm on the pair, ensuring they were generally unbothered as they walked to their destination. The odd pair were soon across the station and in front of the wall to the platform.

"Keep walking, as I told you," Ollivander said.

Harry nodded and the pair calmly walked through the wall without breaking their pace. Once through, Harry looked around and let out a happy gasp The train was amazing! He'd never seen anything quite so grand. Around him, small families rushed about, chasing stray children and pets, hugging each other goodbye and generally enjoying their private moments together.

"Which carriage do you fancy, child?"

Harry looked around and saw the Goldsteins just leaving a carriage near the rear of the train.

"That one," he said, presuming Anthony was inside.

Ollivander nodded and the pair made their way over. The charm was still up, ensuring they got little attention from those around them. They soon had Harry's trunk loaded and Harry stood, owl and bag in hand, awaiting his send off. His guardian gave him a gentle smile and leant forward to hold Harry by the shoulder.

"You will be missed, Harry," he said. "Study hard and pay attention to your teachers. Remember, it matters not which House you call home, so long as you make the most of it."

"I'll remember," Harry promised, smiling. "I'll miss you, too, Mister Ollivander. And Nolly, of course."

"Of course," Ollivander agreed.

He leant forward further and spoke quietly into Harry's ear.

"This is your only chance to ride the Hogwarts Express for the first time. I suggest you make the most of it."

Harry beamed at the clever advice and suddenly - spurred by some sentimental impulse - placed his bag and Hedwig down and grabbed his guardian in a quick hug. It was gently returned, an arm carefully enveloping his shoulders. He felt his guardian breathe a tender kiss onto the top of his head. He stepped back and Ollivander smiled at him again.

"On you go now, child. Remember to write detailed letters. Nolly and I will see you at Christmas."

Harry nodded, now smiling slightly sadly. Obedient as ever, he picked up the cage and bag again and boarded the train with just one final look.

He felt slightly lonely as he made his way down the narrow corridor. Some compartments were already occupied by happy, gossiping students, whilst others still stood empty. He continued his way along and soon found Anthony in a compartment near the end. Relieved, Harry set his things down and knocked before opening the door.

"Alright there, Anthony?"

"Hello Harry," the other boy said, looking up from his book. "Made it okay?"

"Yes, we got to go in a car!"

"Those are fun, aren't they?"

Anthony was soon on his feet, helping Harry load his things onto the luggage rack.

"I saw Daphne earlier," Anthony told Harry. "She's going to travel up with some other girls her family knows."

"Okay. I guess we'll all be making new friends soon," Harry said.

The pair chatted cheerfully as they waited, although Harry could see Anthony's fingers twitching, itching to pick up his book again. Susan and Hannah soon came knocking on the door to join them and Anthony happily returned to his book, comfortable leaving the three of them to entertain each other. The two girls and Harry amused themselves by spying out the window and pointing out other children each of them knew. Terry Boot was spotted at one point, as was Susan's acquaintance Neville Longbottom who must not have been a squib after all. Harry pointed out all he knew, while keeping a particular eye out for the one close friend he hadn't seen yet. With just a few minutes to go, Harry finally saw the Weasley's rush onto the platform and quickly leapt up to shout out the window.

"Ron. Ron! Over here!"

The red-headed boy spotted them and gave a grin and a wave. Seconds later he was squirming in protest as his mother grabbed him to rub some dirt from his face. The twins laughed as he struggled to free himself. Ginny was there, too, and waved to Harry when they spotted each other. She then turned to protest to her mother one last time that she wasn't being allowed to go, too. Ron used the chance to escape towards the train and Harry ran down the corridor to help him pull his trunk aboard. They grinned at each other for a moment, but Ron suddenly looked uncertain, then regretful.

"Just a moment, Harry," he said, and jumped back down from the train to run back to his mother.

Harry smiled, watching the soft happiness that came over Mrs Weasley's face when her youngest son slammed into her for one last hug. It was a touching family scene. As the conductor sounded the whistle, Ron pulled away and turned to ruffle his sister's hair. He said something Harry couldn't hear that made her screw up her nose, then ran back to join Harry. The two boys waved at Mrs Weasley and Ginny as the train pulled slowly away from the station. In deference to his friend, Harry stayed with him at the door until the platform was out of view before leading the way back to the compartment.

"Back again are you?" Hannah said as they arrived.

Harry gave a grin, then stood as straight as he could.

"Please allow me to introduce you to Ronald Weasley," he said.

"A pleasure to meet you," they all chorused, then laughed.

Ron looked at Harry oddly.

"It's something we all got taught when we were little," Harry explained.

"A pleasure to meet you, too, then," Ron said, a little awkwardly.

They soon had his things packed away, bar the pet rat and sandwiches he insisted would stay in his pockets. Better introductions were made all around and even Anthony was stirred away from his book to socialise and to watch the view fly past. Friendly games were started and the two girls giggled away, happily teasing the three boys. Ron's normal rowdiness soon came out as he got comfortable with them, delighting the girls who were used to being the most lively of the group. Watching them play, Harry remembered something he'd been meaning to mention.

"You never did come in for a wand, Ron."

Ron went a little pink and shuffled about.

"Ah, I've got my brother Charlie's old one, mate," said Ron. "Seems to be an okay fit."

Harry sized up his friend's face for a moment, registering the discomfort.

"Alright, get it out then."

"Sorry?"

"Let's see it, Ron," Harry said, holding his hand out somewhat impatiently.

Ron hesitated a second, then produced his wand and surrendered it to Harry's waiting hand. Harry turned it about, looking at it closely.

"Ash and unicorn hair, 12 inches and quite bendy," he commented aloud. "The hair isn't properly secured anymore - look, you can see a little of it coming out this end."

"Is- is it okay?" Ron asked.

"Hmm, it should be an okay fit for you, although not a perfect one. You certainly won't get your best work from it in this state."

Seeing his friend's worry, Harry let out a sigh.

"I'll mend it for you," he said. "I'll have to send home for my core threader first, but it should be easy enough to pull the hair back into place. It won't be a permanent fix, mind you, and Mister Ollivander would certainly do it better. It'll certainly help, though."

"Thanks mate," Ron said as Harry handed the wand back. "I was ruddy nervous about what you'd think of it."

"No trouble."

With that serious business over, the small group settled back into their conversations and games. After about half an hour aboard the train they started to get visits from other children. First the Weasley twins, then a few older girls Susan knew, then briefly Terry Boot who had fallen in with Seamus Finnigan and another boy whose compartment he had joined. Other students - mostly girls - could be seen regularly peaking in the window at Harry before rushing off with shrieks and giggles.

"Mental," Ron declared regularly.

Soon, they had yet another visitor.

"I've been looking everywhere for you."

The blond boy who'd stepped into the compartment appeared to be talking only to Harry. He was trailed by two hulking boys who looked about at them with blank eyes.

"We met in your guardian's shop a few weeks ago," he continued by way of introduction. "I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"I remember," Harry said, employing Ollivander's eerie stare. "Hawthorn and unicorn hair, ten inches. Nice to see you again."

"Yes, that's right," Draco said, surprised. "I'm, uh, glad you remember. Although I suppose we Malfoys are always memorable. We are an important family, after all."

Ron snorted, not quietly enough. The blond boy gave him an unfriendly stare that seemed to pick up each and every flaw. His eyes lingered longest on his red hair.

"A Weasley, I presume," he said. "When we get to Hogwarts, Potter, I'd be happy to take you in hand and introduce you to some other students from… _other_ families. With your status, you need to think carefully about what _sort_ of company you wish to keep. I can help you there."

He extended his hand to Harry. Ron went bright red and appeared ready to shout something back, but Harry had the situation well in hand.

"That's kind of you," Harry said, standing and taking the other boy's hand. "It's always good to meet new people. I've known Ron here for years and I know I'm definitely a fan of the _jolly_ sort."

The other boy seemed confused now, but shook his hand politely enough.

"Well, er, you should spend time with some of the more traditional families," he said. "Maybe we can offer a different perspective on some wizarding issues."

"Yes, Daphne's always saying I should be more aware of the older families," Harry said with his best disarming laugh. "She thinks I'm hopelessly uncultured sometimes!"

"Daphne _Greengrass_? She's never told me she knew you. Why hasn't she mentioned it?"

"I don't know," Harry said politely. "I guess you'd have to ask her."

"I, uh - I guess so."

"Would you three like to sit with us? I could introduce you to the others?"

Harry waved about at the other children who were all watching with open curiosity. The two boys behind Draco both shifted awkwardly for a minute, looking at their friend for guidance.

"Perhaps another time," Draco said. "We have our own compartment with Corner and Nott. Actually, we'd better go. They said they'd get us some treats from the trolley."

"Sweets are my _favourite_ food," Harry declared agreeably. "See you later then."

The three boys traipsed out of the compartment and Harry sat back down.

"You handled that well," Anthony said with a grin.

"Handled what well?" Harry asked, eyes wide with apparent innocence.

"Daphne," Susan declared, "Does not give you enough credit."

The trolley soon arrived at their own compartment, to the delight of each child. Ron was the only one not to buy anything, instead pulling out the sandwiches he'd brought with him. Knowing his favourites, though, Harry bought some Bertie Botts and chocolate frogs to share with his friend.

"You won't _really_ start hanging out with Malfoy, will you?"

Harry looked at his friend and smiled. He was well aware that jealousy was Ron's pitfall, and the other boy was struggling to keep that in check now.

"Probably not," Harry said casually. "He doesn't seem very nice. You never know, though. Maybe he'll improve with company."

Ron screwed his face up, drawing a laugh from Harry.

"I think that's unlikely, mate!"

Harry agreed, then settled in to eat his sweets. He far preferred observing everyone else quietly and a mouthful of chocolate prevented any need to contribute to the discussion.

"Excuse me," came the next interruption, "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one."

"No, sorry," Hannah said.

"Neville Longbottom?" Susan asked, and the bushy haired girl nodded in affirmation. "That's a shame then. Do you need some more help looking?"

"Oh yes, that would be wonderful," the girl said, sighing in relief. "We've looked almost everywhere and absolutely no one's seen him. I tried to brace Neville that he may well have left him behind on the platform, but he's absolutely _sure_ he brought him aboard so I guess we'll keep looking. It would be a terrible shame to lose a pet. I wasn't allowed to bring one, but I'm sure I'd be very upset if it had happened to me. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way."

"I'm Susan Bones," Susan said, unfazed. "This is Hannah, Anthony, Harry and Ron."

"A pleasure to meet you all," Hermione said. "Are you Harry _Potter_ then? I've read all about you. I met you when I got my wand, didn't I? Although of course I didn't know who you were then."

Harry hurriedly swallowed his chocolate to give a polite reply.

"Yes, that was me," he eventually got out.

"Golly, it must be wonderful growing up with a wand maker. You must have learnt so much! Oh, you're so lucky coming to Hogwarts with all that knowledge. I've been so nervous I wouldn't be prepared for it. I didn't know about magic before my Hogwarts letter arrived, you see, but I've memorised all the text books now, of course. I just hope that will be enough."

Ron's mouth dropped at this declaration. Anthony began to pay more attention to the newcomer.

"Do you already know some of the teachers then?" Hermione continued, "I've met Professor McGonagall of course. She's terribly clever, and the head of Gryffindor to boot! I do hope I'm in Gryffindor, that would be great."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Well, um, I guess it just seems like the best one," Hermione answered, looking uncertain. "I mean, I'm sure they're all good, but Professor McGonagall just seemed so clever and assured."

"I think we're best off just trusting we'll end up in the House that suits us the most," Harry said quietly. "I mean, I _personally_ think I'd like to go into Ravenclaw, but I'm going to try not to influence the sorting. Imagine how much worse it would be to insist on one House, only to realise you'd have been much more comfortable in another."

Hermione looked at him, clearly taking what he'd said seriously.

"Harry's probably right. He usually is," Susan said, breaking the silence. "We'd best go find that toad, though. Want to help, Hannah?"

Both girls got up and left with Hermione, who waved goodbye to the boys. Susan stuck her head back in a moment later.

"You boys should consider changing into your robes while we're gone. We'll be in Hogsmeade soon."

She was soon gone again and the three boys looked at each other. Nodding in agreement, they all rose to pull their bags down from the racks and retrieve their robes.

"Blimey, that Granger girl sure can talk," Ron said as they changed.

"Still, she seemed nice enough," Anthony said. "I wonder that she wants to be in Gryffindor. Ravenclaw seems the obvious fit."

"Professor McGonagall is wonderfully clever," Harry said. "I'd be happy to end up in her house."

They'd no sooner finished changing when the train pulled into its destination. Hannah and Susan rushed back in and quickly shooed them out so they themselves could change and Harry, Ron and Anthony joined the other students making their way off the train. Once off, they looked about a little uncertainly.

"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!"

The three boys turned to see a giant of a man beckoning all the first years.

"He's huge," Anthony murmured.

"That must be Hagrid," Ron said. "My brothers've mentioned him. He's the groundskeeper."

They made their way over to him, along with the other first years. They then stood around for a few minutes as they waited for the other students to disembark the train. Soon, they were surrounded by the other first years, all jostling each other in excitement. Harry turned when he felt a small hand nudge him in the ribs.

"I hear you unnerved Baby Malfoy," Daphne said, raising an eyebrow.

"Quite unintentionally, I assure you," Harry said. "How was the ride up?"

"Grand. I've known Tracey Davis and Pansy Parkinson for years. Tracey's the better company of the two."

"So judgemental," Harry scolded, smiling.

"Obviously. I'll stick with you until we get there now. Other girls can be tremendously dull sometimes."

The giant man soon herded them towards the water where some rickety looking boats awaited them. They made for a beautiful picture, with lanterns swaying from side to side in the darkness. Harry, Ron, Anthony and Daphne picked their way towards one and were soon settled in it. Harry spotted Susan and Hannah getting into a boat with Hermione and a mousy boy clutching a toad. He pointed them out to the other three, then settled into his seat as Daphne and Ron introduced themselves to each other. Neither seemed particularly impressed by the other. Harry had expected that; they were very, very different.

The boats set off with a slight bump. Harry tuned his companions out and settled back to admire the serenity. There were hushed whispers coming from some boats, delighted chatter from others, and a lot nervous shrieks whenever one lurched a little. The view was the most significant thing and Harry lost himself in it immediately. Hagrid drew all their attention at one point when they rounded a slight bend and got their first look at Hogwarts.

This was one of those moments that Harry would remember for the rest of his life. The castle was stunning. Awe inspiring. It towered over the lake, somehow both imposing and delicate all at once. Ron and Daphne even paused their quiet sniping to gaze at the view in front of them.

The boats silently carried them the rest of their journey as each child had their own private moment. Every child was wondering what would become of them at Hogwarts. Each felt both nervous and excited, and each wondered if they would be able to meet expectations - both their families' and their own. Soon enough, they were bumping against low stone steps having reached their destination.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall was saying soon enough as they waited to make their first entrance into the Great Hall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses."

She continued on, explaining all four houses and what they stood for. She cast a critical eye over the bunch as she finished, making some pointed comments about smartening up their appearances before their entrance. She then left them to their own devices. The first years shuffled awkwardly amongst themselves, looking around at each other.

"What d'you 'spose the sorting ceremony is?" Ron asked Harry, not for the first time.

"Not sure. Ollivander and Mrs Abbott wouldn't tell us."

"It's probably a test of purity," a nasty looking girl said, looking at the boy Seamus and Terry had ridden up with. "To ensure only the best sort end up together."

"Nonsense," another boy said. "It'll be a knowledge test. Has to be."

Hermione Granger let out a squeak and began quietly mumbling off some rehearsed list.

"Antimony, armadillo bile, ashwinder egg, asphodel…"

Some students were soon bickering amongst themselves whilst others stood quietly panicking. There was a brief interlude when a collection of ghosts came through the wall, startling most of them, but then they were left alone once more. Professor McGonagall came back shortly and gave an approving glance to the few students who were waiting calmly.

"Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony is about to start."

Next to Harry, Ron gave an audible gulp. Harry placed a calming hand on his shoulder, steering them both toward the waiting professor.

"Well, here we go."

o

 _McGonagall's dialogue is taken from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_

Happy New Year's Eve! I hope you all have a wonderful 2016.


	6. Chapter 6

GREAT THINGS

Chapter 6:

The sorting ceremony at Hogwarts was always an exciting affair for the existing students and teachers. Many were eager to see who would join their house, others were simply excited by the grandeur of it all. Those with younger siblings starting that year always craned their necks to try and make eye contact and offer reassuring waves. Any first years from well known backgrounds or with memorable names always found themselves garnering extra attention, with many students interested in where they would end up.

This year would be no exception to any of these circumstances. The Weasley brothers were waving at Ron and half of Slytherin was watching to see Malfoy's presumed inevitable sorting. The knowledge that the Nott boy - whose father had committed such a sin - was also amongst the first years had many students whispering and speculating. Of course, as far of most of Hogwarts was concerned, the most significant sorting would be of Harry James Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived had finally come to Hogwarts.

The first years, and Harry amongst them, trooped into the Great Hall with some semblance of order. With McGonagall's strict eye upon them they formed themselves into a line and stood waiting. Harry had kept Ron to his right and was silently amused by the other boy's obvious worry. Daphne stood on his left and was eyeing the girl next to her - Hermione Granger - with something resembling distaste. Harry paid very little attention to the teachers on the main stage. His focus was on the hall around them, which he took in with awe. It was brilliant! He'd never seen anything like it. He could hear other first years whispering in amazement, too. Even the purebloods were impressed.

The sound of someone's throat being cleared brought his attention back to McGonagall, then on to the stool beside her where the oddest thing he'd yet seen was beginning.

"Is that hat singing?" He whispered to Ron, incredulous.

"Trying to," Daphne said. "It's not doing the greatest job of it, though."

The first years all listened as the song ran through several verses about the different houses. It was actually a rather clever little song! Despite this, Harry couldn't help agreeing with Daphne. The hat did not have an excellent singing voice.

" _You're in safe hands, though I have none, for I'm a thinking cap!_ "

The hall broke out in applause as the hat finished up and gave them all what Harry presumed was supposed to be a dignified bow.

"I'm going to kill Fred and George," Ron muttered in a slightly strangled voice.

Harry gave him a curious look as his friend began to grumble something about trolls and evil twins. Harry's attention quickly returned to the front when he heard Professor McGonagall clearing her throat. She had a scroll in her hands and was swiftly unrolling it. A small glimpse of it showed it to be a list of names.

"Abbott, Hannah," McGonagall called out.

From somewhere on his left Harry heard his friend give a squeak. Soon she was stumbling forward, her nerves obvious for anyone to see. McGonagall directed her onto the stool and placed the now silent hat firmly upon her head, hiding much of her face from view. Harry watched as she sat, trembling, on the stool. A few seconds passed before the hat called out a single word.

" _Hufflepuff_!"

Harry clapped with all the other students as Hannah half walked, half ran to sit at the table of students beckoning her. She was smiling, relief evident on her face.

"Bones, Susan," McGonagall called as the room calmed down.

"I don't think there are very many of us this year," Ron said, trying to count how many other first years there were. "Mustn't be any other kids with A surnames, I guess."

Susan's sorting took a few moments longer than Hannah's but soon enough the hat shouted out _Hufflepuff_ and she quickly joined her friend. Harry had expected this. He couldn't imagine a world where they weren't joined at the hip.

Terry became the first Ravenclaw a few moments later and nearly fell off the stage when he turned to give Harry a thumbs up as he headed off. Brocklehurst, Mandy was called next and joined him in Ravenclaw before Brown, Lavender was the first sorted into Gryffindor. Bulstrode, Millicent became Slytherin's first student and the green table cheered loudly for the new arrival, compensating for a much quieter room. The names continued and Harry stored each one away, being careful to memorise the face of each student who stepped forward. Most of them he already recognised from when they'd purchase their wands and he played a game with himself, trying to preempt which name Professor McGonagall would call next from the alphabetised list.

"Goldstein, Anthony," was soon called and Harry's studious friend walked forward.

"There'll be no surprises here," Daphne said to Harry.

Sure enough the hat barely touched Anthony's head before pronouncing _Ravenclaw_. Anthony calmly walked down to join the cheering table. Malfoy's friend from the train, Goyle, followed Anthony up and was quickly sorted into Slytherin.

"Granger, Hermione," McGonagall called next.

"Oh god," the frizzy-haired girl said in a strangled whisper, stepping forward from beside Daphne.

She sat herself down on the stool and appeared about to say something to Professor McGonagall before the hat was placed on her head, cutting her off. Harry cast his eyes around the room as they waited for her sorting, which was not happening as quick as some of the others. After about about a minute slight whispering could be heard from students who were tiring of the wait. The four heads of houses gave their students firm, warning looks, which quietened them down. Finally, the hat shifted slightly on the girl's head.

" _Ravenclaw_!"

The blue table broke into cheers as the other tables clapped politely. Hermione took the hat off and passed it to McGonagall. Harry watched her take a deep, nervous breath before walking off to join her table.

"Greengrass, Daphne," McGonagall continued.

Daphne stepped out and went forward to be sorted. Her sorting wasn't instantaneous, but with relative speed she was soon off to join Slytherin. The sorting continued through the J's, L's and M's. Malfoy was speedily sent to Slytherin, exactly as Harry had expected. Nott soon followed him into Slytherin and Harry could see suspicious mutterings from many of the other tables. Slytherin cheered particularly loudly, as if to make up for it. Perks, Sally-Anne was soon called up and Harry began preparing himself.

"I reckon I'm next," he whispered to Ron.

Sure enough, after the Perks girl went to Hufflepuff Harry heard his name.

"Potter, Harry."

There was immediate silence in the room and Harry stepped forward. Anxious and excited whispering then broke out. He tried to ignore it as he moved forward but he couldn't help feeling nervous. What if something went wrong? What if, like with his wand, fate interfered and sent him somewhere he wasn't supposed to be? What if he wasn't sorted at all?

Harry swallowed his fears and sat down on the little stool. Professor McGonagall gave him a familiar nod that calmed him quickly and left him feeling a slightly more assured as the hat went down over his eyes.

"Well, what have we here," a voice sounded, startling Harry. "Oh you _will_ be a challenge to sort. So many desires, so many conflicting wishes. You're quite the contradiction, Mister Potter."

"But you'll sort me, right?" Harry asked it, feeling worried.

"Of course I will," the hat said, affronted. "There's not been a student yet that I couldn't find a home for. Don't you worry about destiny, Mister Potter. Nothing so mundane could _ever_ interfere with me."

The hat had a peculiar dry tone that Harry rather liked. Feeling rather comforted, he settled himself better on the stool.

"Now the question is, where to put you?" The hat continued. "Do you have a preference?"

"No," Harry said. "I wish to go where I'm best suited."

"Oh leave it all to me then, as always," the hat said, grumbling. "Best suited? Now that I should be able to do. I could sort you to _Hufflepuff_ , if you desired. You'd be happy there, that I'm certain of. But no. You have loyalty, of a sort, and you certainly love your guardian enough to work hard, but those are hardly your defining qualities. Now, I would have thought _Slytherin_ would suit a boy of your abilities. There's certainly a part of your mind that really wants you to go there. But ambition? You have it, of course, but it's not aimed at anything. You certainly have some cunning but you value honesty too highly to feel comfortable with it. No, that one's not for you either."

Harry wondered how long this was taking. He didn't think the other students had been under long enough for such a lengthy, detailed conversations. Perhaps time worked differently with the hat? Did a mental conversation require the same amount of time as an audible one? He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard the hat chuckle.

"You have a keen mind, Mister Potter," said the hat. "And a thirst for knowledge that rivals many a Raven. But you are brave, too. You have the courage needed to face the many trials you know are coming, and you want desperately to face them _well_. Yes, I think either house would suit you admirably. But a decision must be reached, and one suits you better than the other. And well suited is what you wish to be, yes?"

"Yes," Harry said, firmly.

"Very well. Better be - _Gryffindor_!"

The last was said aloud and Harry heard students burst into loud cheers. As he removed the hat he could see the Gryffindor table going wild, throwing things in the air and dancing about. The other tables clapped politely, looking disappointed. Harry thought he even saw one young Hufflepuff girl sobbing.

Harry passed the hat back to Professor McGonagall who gave him another nod, looking proud. He smiled at her, his new head of house, and turned to head over to the Gryffindor table. The cheering hadn't subsided yet and as he made his way down along the table students whistled and called his name. Many patted him on the back. He was grabbed in every direction and felt almost as though he was being absorbed into a mass of red and gold.

Through the crowd he could just about see slight glimpses of the other tables. He caught the eye of Hermione Granger over at the Ravenclaw table and was startled to see a look of utter betrayal on her face. He held her gaze for a moment in confusion before being pulled down by Percy Weasley and seated firmly next to the other Gryffindor first year boys who'd already been sorted. Hermione Granger was quickly forgotten as he turned to the stage to watch the rest of the sorting.

The remaining first years on stage had moved closer to each other, their numbers now dwindling. A small smattering did still remain and were being quickly despatched into each house. Dean Thomas was the next to join Gryffindor and was joyfully greeted by Seamus Finnigan who'd ridden up with him and Terry Boot on the train. Another girl was sorted somewhere and then Ron was one of only two left. His name was called next.

Harry watched his friend stagger forward, his freckled face alternating between bright red and a horrid, ghostly white. He briefly made eye contact with Harry before the hat was placed on him. It remained on for a good thirty seconds before announcing its verdict.

" _Gryffindor_!"

Harry whooped and clapped as loudly as all of Ron's brothers, standing up on his seat to beckon Ron over. Ron practically ran over to them and had his hair tousled by all three brothers before finally sitting down next to Harry. He leant around his friend to greet the other first year boys - Neville, Seamus and Dean - before they all turned to watch 'Zabini, Blaise' get sorted into Slytherin.

With that, the sorting was complete. The students quickly struck up conversation with one another as the stool and hat were taken away and McGonagall made her way around the head table towards a seat. Harry and his male year mates were encouraged by Percy to introduce themselves to their two female counterparts which they quickly did. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were the only girls to make it to Gryffindor that year, something that seemed odd to both Harry and the other students.

"Small group this year," Percy commented, earning a nod from another fifth year.

"I think we've got the smallest bunch of all the houses."

The attention of all students was soon returned to the stage as Dumbledore stood up from his chair. Professor McGonagall had sat down by this point and was giving her Gryffindors a warning look to pay attention.

"Another year begins, full of excitement and potential. There is more I could say, but those of you who know me will know there is little that will keep me from the promise of a grand feast," Professor Dumbledore said. "So with that in mind, I will give you only a few short words before we eat. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you."

He sat down again leaving most of the first years staring.

"Mad, he is," Ron declared.

Percy gave his youngest brother a hard nudge before laughing a little.

"Mad as a hatter, but the best wizard in all of Britain all the same!"

Food appeared seconds later, quickly diverting the youngest Weasley boy's attention. Harry, too, stared at the table. There was an enormous quantity of food including many of his personal favourites. Thinking about it, he remembered Nolly had once been a Hogwarts elf. Perhaps the dishes she always made him were regular staples here? Harry hoped this was the case. He _loved_ Nolly's cooking.

Harry filled his plate and tucked in with the rest of them. He kept his fork full and his mouth busy, giving himself an excuse to simply watch the others conversing around him. Seamus and Dean were lively, as were Lavender and Parvati. Neville Longbottom, he noticed, was even quieter than he was himself. Harry filed that aside to consider later and continued his observations. He wanted to have a good grasp of all his classmate's personalities very quickly.

"It's very important to pay attention in all your classes," Percy was saying to Neville who was staring up at him somewhat wildly. "Your current classes are core subjects. All of them are essential and the foundations they lay this year are prerequisites for anything you'll try to learn in the future."

"We've got some new ones to show you," Harry overheard Fred whisper to his friend Lee Jordan. "We're testing the first ones out as soon as possible!"

"Definitely by this weekend," George chimed in.

"Me dad's a muggle; Mam's a witch," Seamus was saying to Ron and Dean. "Bit of a nasty shock for him when he found out!"

"When did she tell him?" Dean asked, curious.

"When I did me first accidental magic of course! Couldn't hide that from him."

Dean look puzzled and a little concerned. Harry remembered his visit to Ollivander's - Dean's muggle parents had been with him. That meant he'd finally have someone to ask about the muggle world! Another idea to file away for later. Harry had a list of questions in one of his notebooks that he'd been awaiting the chance to ask someone who was familiar with muggles. Anthony had always been helpful on these matters since he lived in a muggle neighbourhood, but there was only so much he could assist with.

Dessert soon replaced dinner on the tables and Harry happily helped himself to several that looked tempting. Treacle tart was amongst them. His favourite! A big section of his plate was devoted to a serving of that one.

"Having fun?" Ron asked him around a mouthful of food.

"Yeah, loads."

Ron gave him a toothy, caramel covered grin before turning back to keep quizzing the Gryffindor house ghost about something. Harry himself soon ended up in a conversation with the two first year girls. They appeared to have dozens of questions for him!

Finally it appeared everyone had eaten their fill and plates began vanishing from the tables. Ron looked rather put out, but even he couldn't eat another bite. As everything wound down, Dumbledore once again stood up to address them all. Harry and Ron paid attention as best they could between yawns. It had been a long day!

"Ooh, the Forbidden Forest," Ron said at one point. "Fred and George reckon they've snuck out there a few times."

"That doesn't sound very safe," Harry said. "Besides, I bet they haven't. There's no way the teachers don't have wards monitoring the edges of the forest, given how dangerous it is!"

George overheard him and leant over, waggling his eyebrows.

"You'd think that, wouldn't you."

Harry rolled his eyes, then registered what Dumbledore had said next.

"Wait, there's a corridor here that could kill us?" Ron said.

"That doesn't sound right," said Harry, frowning.

"Maybe it's like a test? To see who follows the rules?"

"Or to see who doesn't get caught!" George said to Fred and both of them grinned.

Soon enough Dumbledore was happily conducting them in the school song, which was causing a cacophony of competing tunes. Harry remembered the words from Mrs Abbott but had no idea what to sing them to. Instead, he just mumbled them quietly, looking around at the other enthusiastic Gryffindors in amazement. It sounded absolutely horrendous! He found himself hoping they weren't going to be singing this regularly. A few others clearly agreed with his assessment. He could see Sally-Anne Perks at the Hufflepuff table had her fingers in her ears and was glaring unhappily at Susan and Hannah, whose joyous rendition Harry could hear from where he was! Hermione Granger looked slightly aghast, whilst most of the Slytherins simply looked unimpressed. Once the Weasley twins had finished their version, which was by far the lengthiest, Dumbledore finally dismissed them all.

"First years, follow me!" Percy called as they all stood up.

It was a small group and they all followed him quickly.

"You'll need to stick together for the first few days," Percy told them importantly. "Hogwarts is very confusing and you can get lost in seconds."

"D'you reckon you can help us, Perc'? Maybe for tomorrow at least?" Ron asked, trotting after his big brother.

Percy looked thoughtful at this.

"I suppose it would save me some trouble if I knew you'd all made it to the hall okay," he said. "Alright, I'll be heading for breakfast at 7:20 tomorrow morning. If you're in the common room then, I'll walk you down. If not, you'll just have to find your own way."

Most of the first years looked fairly committed to not being left behind and began sorting out amongst themselves who would wake up first and get them roused. They went up some rather grand stairs and through several corridors. It wasn't the most direct route, Percy told them, but one of the stair cases had stubbornly refused to move back in the correct direction, leaving them to go the long way around.

"Here we are," he eventually said. "Welcome to Gryffindor. This is the Fat Lady. You'll need to give her a password in order to enter. _Caput Draconis_."

The portrait swung open and Percy led them all in. All seven new Gryffindors gazed around excitedly at the common room. It was magnificent! A huge fireplace, a couch, dozens of cozy armchairs, and small tables for games and studying, Harry and Ron nodded at each other in satisfaction, seeing several dragon motifs on the cornicing. They definitely approved of anything involving dragons!

Percy's female prefect counterpart stepped forward and spoke quietly to him for a moment before beckoning the two girls forward.

"Come along you two, I'll show you up to your dorm room. You're going to have an awful lot of space, you lucky things!"

Lavender and Parvati trotted off, waving goodbye to the boys and swearing they'd be there at 7:20 the next morning. The were up one of two staircases and were soon out of sight.

"Don't even dream about trying to go into the girls' dorms yourselves," Percy warned them all. "The staircase is spelled against it and I can guarantee you won't like the consequences."

Soon enough all five boys were in their own dorm room and were looking about. It was a lovely space. Warm, cosy, and with five huge four-poster beds spaced about evenly. Harry noted approvingly that the beds had curtains. Good. He'd get some privacy when he needed it then.

"Look," Ron said. "That's my trunk in front of that one! And my clothes are already unpacked!"

"Brill!"

All five quickly figured out where they would be sleeping and set about getting ready for bed. There was plenty of ruckus and laughter as they figured their way around each other. Each was beginning to establish their role in the new social order. The bathroom was found, teeth were brushed, faces were washed and all five boys were soon tucked in and nodding off. Harry gave himself a quick moment to think about everything that had happened. Coming here was the furthest he'd ever travelled and he'd found it all rather exhilarating! He wondered if he would begin to feel at home here quickly or if he'd be a little homesick at first. As he started to drift off, he promised himself he'd write to Mister Ollivander and Nolly as soon as he got the chance tomorrow. He was fast asleep moments later, dreaming of dragons, trains and talking chocolate frogs.

After all, it had been a wonderfully long day.

o

 _The line from the hat's song and some of Seamus and Dumbledore's dialogue are taken from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone._

Did you catch it? Just a tiny bit of foreshadowing in this one.

For those of you who are cross about Hermione, I agree with you that she is 100% brave enough for Gryffindor. I think any child would have traits from several houses and I hope to explore that in this story.


	7. Chapter 7

GREAT THINGS

Chapter 7:

Late that evening, after the sorting, the teachers of Hogwarts were all seated in the staffroom and speaking quietly amongst themselves. Only two were missing - Filius Flitwick and Charity Burbage, both of whom were due to arrive shortly. Even Trelawney had shown up for this obligatory gathering and sat, barely conscious, at one end of the table. Various conversations were going on between the colleagues, many of whom hadn't seen each other for the whole nine weeks of the summer break. At the head of the table Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore were quietly comparing notes with each other.

"Sorry, sorry!" Charity Burbage said, bursting into the room in a fluster. "My mother flooed suddenly just as I was about to leave!"

"It's quite alright, dear," Pomona Sprout said. "We're still waiting on Filius anyway. Two of his Ravenclaws were quite unhappy to see each other again!"

"That they were," said Filius, walking in. "I'm afraid the first point loss for the year come from my 'Claws. Miss Haberdash was apparently quite put out with Mister Newtson for his lack of holiday correspondence and took her frustrations out on his eyebrows. I had to spell them off completely to get rid of the moths. He'll be fine, although a little comical in appearance for the next few weeks."

"Ah, young love," Dumbledore said with a happy sigh. "Let's press ahead then with our first staff meeting of the year. Sit down, sit down, everyone. Now, what are everyone's thoughts on our new arrivals?"

"Oh, they seem like a lovely group of children, especially my Hufflepuffs! What a jolly bunch!"

"The Slytherins are made up of the names I expected," Severus said. "No surprises amongst their numbers."

Minerva and Filius echoed with similar statements.

"It does seem like a very… _small_ class this year," Aurora Sinistra ventured. "I think Gryffindor only had two girls this year!"

"That's true," Minerva confirmed. "This is certainly the smallest class we've had in my whole teaching career. Next year's class is barely any larger. However, we must think of the circumstances that surrounded us eleven years ago when these children were born. Not many couples wished to add to their families at that time."

"It was a dark, difficult time," Albus agreed. "However, let us focus on the here and now. Here's the full class timetable we have for this year, along with our full, updated student list for each house. Please familiarise yourselves with the names of those who will be taking your classes. Now Silvanus and Sybil, a word of warning for you: the Weasley twins will be in your classes for the first time this year."

Professor Trelawney stirred at the sound of her name and the warning that followed.

"It's good to see there are students who will appreciate the great beauty of divination," she slurred in what she hoped was a mystical voice.

McGonagall and Snape rolled their eyes.

"Of course, Sybil," Albus said, eyes twinkling.

"I hate to bring it up," Filius said, "But what do we do about Harry Potter and Theodore Nott? According to this timetable, they'll have several classes together."

"Neither boy requires special treatment," Professor Snape said. "Mister Nott will be held to the same standards as I hold all the Slytherins, or he'll answer to me. And Mister Potter should learn sooner rather than later that his fame is meaningless here."

"I've met Mister Potter before, as has Quirinus," Professor McGonagall said. "I don't anticipate any problems with his behaviour. He's a studious boy and eager to learn."

"Obviously not eager enough or he'd be in Filius' house."

"Just what are you implying about by students, Severus?" McGonagall asked sharply.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat before more could be said. As the two heads of houses turned to him, another professor spoke up.

"Young Harry is a polite child and very well behaved," said Quirrell with a charming smile. "I expect to become quite fond of him as the year progresses. Like Minerva, I don't anticipate any problems."

"Well!" said Dumbledore cheerfully. "I believe that's all that need be said about this! Shall we move on to other topics? Silvanus, please brief us on what specimens you intend to bring to Hogwarts for your classes this year."

Poppy Pomfrey instantly straightened up at this and produced a quill and parchment, eyeing Professor Kettleburn suspiciously. Hagrid simply beamed at the man in clear admiration.

o

Harry awoke quite early the next morning, well before any of his roommates had stirred. Looking around, it took him a few minutes to adjust to his new surroundings. He was in Hogwarts! Finally! He lay there for a while just grinning to himself.

Rising, he went to his trunk at the end of the bed and pulled out a quill and parchment and then made his way to one of the small study desks in the room. Sitting down, he began to write a short missive.

 _Dear Mister Ollivander,_

 _I hope you and Nolly are well. The trip to Hogwarts yesterday went smoothly, as did the sorting ceremony. Why didn't you tell me it was just a hat! I was sorted into Gryffindor and it's wonderful! The tower is lovely and my year mates seem nice._

 _Please thank Nolly for the jam tarts she put in my trunk. I will write again when I have more news at the end of the week._

 _I miss you both already,_

 _Harry_

Signing his name, he folded the parchment up, resolving to find the Owlery and Hedwig as soon as he had a free moment that day. He grabbed his uniform and made his way to the bathroom to freshen up and prepare for the day. By the time he returned two of his year mates, Seamus and Neville, had woken up.

"Hello Harry," Seamus whispered.

"Hiya," Harry replied, nodding at him and Neville who went bright pink.

The three boys were soon dressed and ready. Harry and Seamus entertained themselves by lobbing pillows at Ron and Dean until they stirred.

"We've got to be down by 7:20, remember?" Harry said in answer to Ron's unhappy glare.

"Remind me to set Fred 'n' George on you soon," the other boy grumbled, stumbling off to the bathroom.

All five boys made it downstairs just in time, finding Percy and the two girls waiting for them. They set off for breakfast as a group, chattering excitedly amongst themselves and hassling Percy with a constant stream of questions.

"Our room is _huge_!" Parvati squealed at one point "I swear it could fit _twenty_ girls!"

"And we have our _own_ bathroom," Lavender added, eyes wide. " No one else shares it with us and one of the prefects told us the house elves even clean it. We barely have to do anything!"

"Brilliant," Ron declared. "Hey Percy, where do the house elves live? Do they have their own rooms?"

"Down near the kitchens I think," Percy said before Seamus interrupted with yet another irritating question.

He was beginning to regret agreeing to act as their escort. Soon enough, they all arrived at the hall and a relieved Percy dismissed them all to find their own seats along the table.

The seven soon found a place for themselves where they could all sit together and immediately began tucking into their breakfasts. Harry kept one keen eye out for his friends in other houses and soon spotted Daphne arriving at the Slytherin table with two other girls. Anthony came in soon after before the Hufflepuff girls arrived, arm in arm. He grinned and waved at each of them when he could catch their eye before settling back in to listen to his new classmates. They finished eating rather early and sat waiting for a moment, wondering where they were to go next. They only had to sit a moment longer before answers arrived in the form of Professor McGonagall.

"Here are your class timetables," she informed them, handing them out to each child. "Be sure to keep them handy. I will be very disappointed to hear of any of you arriving late to classes."

"Hello Professor McGonagall," Harry said politely and was echoed by Dean.

"Hello Mister Potter, Mister Thomas," she said, giving them a slight smile, still looking stern. "It's a pleasure to see you both in my house."

Harry beamed at her. Soon she was off down the table handing out parchments to the other students.

"She came 'round my house and told us about magic," Dean was explaining to Seamus. "She's very… impressive."

"Scary, you mean," Ron said.

"That too!"

"Look at this, we've got Herbology first thing today," said Parvati. "We'd better get back to the dorms and get our gloves. I don't want dirt on my hands!"

Lavender screwed her nose up and nodded vehemently. Harry made a mental note that the two girls were likely to be just as fussy about appearances as Daphne Greengrass was.

"We don't have potions until Friday morning," Ron said, disappointed. "But look, it's a double lesson. It must be to give us time for brewing!"

The girls soon had them all getting up and herded them towards the exit, insistent on fetching their gloves.

"We should get our Charms and Transfiguration books, too," Ron said sensibly. "We've got them both before lunch."

The route to the common room was becoming more familiar now and they had soon made their way back. Splitting with the girls, Harry and the others ran up the stairs to their dorm and began digging through their trunks.

"I hope Herbology is fun," Harry was saying. "We did a little in my lessons before I came here."

"I-I like Herbology," Neville said. "We have greenhouses. G-Gran lets me play with the plants."

"I dunno nothing about it," Seamus said, looking worried.

"Me either," said Dean. "I'd never heard of it before."

"You two should sit beside Neville then," Ron said. "That way he can show you things if you get lost, right Nev?"

"Um, y-yeah. I can do that," Neville said, brightening up.

Their gloves and books were found and the group traipsed downstairs to find the two giggling girls. As one, they made their way down the stairs to the entrance hall, outside the building, and off towards the greenhouses. There they waited outside a little uncertainly, not sure which one of the greenhouses to go into. They saw other first years in yellow ties walking from the castle towards them.

"Looks like we've got Herbology with the Hufflepuffs," Seamus said.

"Hi Harry! Hi Ron!" Hannah said excitedly.

"Hi Hannah. This is Seamus, Dean, Neville, Lavender and Parvati. Guys, this is Hannah and Susan," Harry said.

"Pleasure," the girls chorused.

"I've met you before, Neville, at Longbottom Manor," Susan said, turning to the quickly reddening boy.

"Ah- yes, a pleasure to see you again," he squeaked, remembering his etiquette.

The other Hufflepuffs were soon all introduced before Professor Sprout arrived to direct them into the greenhouse.

"I'm so pleased to see you all here on time and keen to learn," she commented, bustling about.

The first class went smoothly. They were introduced only to some mundane plants and taught proper potting techniques, which was fairly basic as far as Harry was concerned. Neville appeared to be in his element and smiled the whole way through the class. The lesson soon wrapped up and they were dismissed to hurry back to the castle and find the Charms classroom. The Hufflepuffs had something else and they separated quickly in the entrance hall.

"We're going to be cutting it fine," Ron said warily as they tried to catch a student's attention to ask for directions. "We've only got fifteen minutes to find the room."

"Maybe they won't mind us being a little late on the first day?" Parvati said hopefully.

"No, remember what McGonagall said?"

"Oh, right."

They found the classroom with very little time to spare. Seeing the Ravenclaws, Harry slid into a seat next to Anthony, letting the other Gryffindor boys pair up with each other. He knew Charms required concentration, something he and Anthony were both good at.

Charms turned out to be taught by Professor Flitwick, a diminutive man who looked very enthused to be teaching them. He spent the first half of the class giving them a cheerful, exciting lecture about the basis of the subject and its benefits. He then handed out broken sugar quills to each of them and began teaching them a mending charm, _reparo_. He assured them there was no pressure to get it first thing today, but to aim to at least get the two pieces attached to one another.

It took only seconds for them all to discover that Hermione Granger had taught herself this charm already. On only her first try at the spell, the sugar quill was mended near perfectly and her hand shot in the air to show Professor Flitwick she'd done it.

"Oh well _done_ Miss Granger! Five points to Ravenclaw. I can see why you were placed in my house!"

She preened a little under the praise and Flitwick gave her a second sugar quill to practice on, telling her to keep the first one as a treat.

"She's very clever, that one," Anthony said to Harry.

"She certainly seems it," Harry agreed.

"How did she _do_ that!" Mandy Brocklehurst hissed to Lisa Turpin.

Both girls set about trying to match the feat, their pride as Ravenclaws now on the line.

Anthony was next to get the two pieces together, followed quickly by Harry. Their mended quills seemed rather flimsy so both boys broke them back apart and set about trying to improve their efforts. By the end of the class, everyone but Neville had managed to get the two pieces to form at least some semblance of a connection, although most fell apart the second you touched them. The Longbottom boy was looking frantic and crushed. As they packed up, Harry was frowning at the other boy, although he shook off Ron's query about why.

"Okay lads and lasses, we can't be late for Transfiguration," Seamus said. "McGonagall would destroy us!"

"We just had it," Hermione Granger said, overhearing. "It was amazing! Professor McGonagall is terrifically clever! I think it may end up being one of my favourites, although Charms was wonderful, too."

"Er, okay," Seamus said, looking at her oddly. "Can ye' tell us which way the classroom is?"

"Oh sure! It's on the first floor. Go back to the main staircase, down to the first floor, and then you want to follow the corridor on the east side," she seemed about to give them more directions, but caught sight of the other Ravenclaws already disappearing around the corner. "Hey, wait up!"

"You heard the lady," Dean grinned. "Let's go!"

They made it to Transfiguration with time to spare and settled themselves in for the class. This one was with Hufflepuff again, making Harry smile. He and Ron took a table next to Hannah and Susan. The layout of the room was much clearer than it had been in the greenhouse and Harry got a chance to take note of each student. Doing his maths from the sorting ceremony, he realised that their two houses must be the smallest of their year group.

"Where do you think McGonagall is," Ron asked Harry, looking around. "It's nearly time to start. You don't think _she's_ going to be late after the lecture she gave us this morning?"

He barely had time to finish his sentence when a tabby cat that had been sitting on the desk at the front morphed into their professor, eliciting a shriek from Lavender, Parvati and Ron.

"You'll find that I am always perfectly punctual, Mister Weasley," she told him sternly. "In future classes, I suggest you sit _quietly_ while awaiting your instructor."

Ron looked like he wanted to die.

Like Charms, this class started with a long introduction to the field of Transfiguration. McGonagall's lecture was much more serious though and came with a range of warnings about what not to do. A clear threat was made at one point, suggesting expulsion from the class for anyone who attempted to perform a Transfiguration without specific instructions. Following this, she set about providing said instructions for their first attempt, which would be to change a matchstick into a needle. Harry's hand was soon cramping from note taking. Eventually, she produced the matches and they all set to work.

o

"Alright, give it here," Harry said to Neville after class.

Neville and the other Gryffindors looked at him oddly.

"Your wand," Harry specified impatiently. "Pass it here. Now."

Neville fumbled about and quickly passed it over, looking terrified. Harry snatched it from his hand and set about examining it, turning it this way and that. As the seconds passed, his face took on a look of anger.

"This wand is practically burnt out! Not to mention it's a terrible match for you in the first place! It's useless for you!"

Neville looked utterly crushed.

"It won't work?"

"No! You'll barely be able to do any magic!" Harry shouted, exasperated. "Who comes to Hogwarts without a functioning _wand_!"

"I-it was my father's," he ventured, only for Harry to scoff.

"Whoever's it was, it's not yours. Merlin, of all the stupid things to-" he cut himself off and shoved the wand back towards Neville. "Get a proper wand!"

With that Harry stomped off in search of the owlery, leaving a devastated Neville behind with the rest of the confused and upset Gryffindors.

Harry muttered to himself practically the whole way there, mumbling about stupid families with their stupid traditions. By the time he arrived at the owlery, he was starting to calm down.

"Hello Hedwig," he said quietly.

The beautiful bird flew down to land on his shoulder. Harry stood silently for some time, petting her and staring out at the lake. It was… peaceful here. He decided it would do him good to come to the owlery regularly.

Eventually, he roused himself and produced the letter, attaching it to Hedwig.

"To Mister Ollivander, okay?"

The bird screeched in reply and took off. Harry watched her fly away, feeling much better. When she was out of sight, he turned and began to make his way back. He'd just stepped out of the door at the bottom when a voice behind him made him jump.

"Hey Harry."

It was Ron. It seemed he'd been waiting at the foot of the tower. Seeing who it was, Harry let out a sigh.

"Hiya."

"You okay, mate? You were pretty harsh on Neville back there."

"I know, I know. I'll apologise. Badly matched wands just really frustrate me! It's so stupid that some families do that."

"Does mine annoy you like that," Ron asked, somewhat pointedly.

"No, I- your situation is different, Ron. I know that," Harry said, giving his friend an apologetic look. "And yours is _okay_ for you, it's just not perfect. Neville's is barely functioning as a wand anymore it's so burnt out."

Ron looked at him for a moment before shrugging.

"Okay, whatever. Let's go to lunch then. I'm starving!"

Harry agreed and off they went.

"You'll apologise to Neville though, right?"

"First thing," Harry promised.

o

Harry's apology to Neville was sincere and heartfelt. He felt awful for upsetting the other boy so much. As Harry begged forgiveness, Neville slowly started to relax and eventually gave him a small, timid smile and assured him it was okay. They tucked into their lunch with vigour, but Harry remained quiet for the rest of the meal, feeling horrible. Soon they had to rush off back to Gryffindor tower to change their books, though not before tracking down Percy to get directions to their next class.

The next class was Defence Against the Dark Arts, one Harry was personally looking forward to. He hoped Professor Quirrell remembered him. He hoped he was still nice! Having collected what they needed, all seven made their way to class, knowing they had a little time to spare. The classroom wasn't open when they arrived, so they waited outside the door, chatting amongst themselves.

"Hello Potter," a voice came from behind them.

"Hello Malfoy," Harry said in his best pleasant voice. "Oh, and hello Daphne."

"Hello Harry," his friend said before returning to her conversation with another Slytherin girl.

"Are you looking forward to Defence, Potter? I suppose you expect to be quite good at this subject, considering your… history."

"Oh, I hope so," Harry said. "Shall I introduce you to the others? This is Seamus Finnigan, Neville Longbottom, Parvati Patil, Dean Thomas and Lavender Brown. I'm sure you remember Ron from the train."

Draco looked at each of them, sizing them up and quickly trying to identify the right surnames.

"Longbottom, Miss Brown, Miss Patil," he eventually greeted them, ignoring the other three. "I do hope you'll keep Potter from associating with the _wrong_ sort."

Lavender opened her mouth, about to reply, when the door to the Defence classroom opened. All the students quickly pushed their way inside to find seats, seeing their professor already leaning against the desk at the front. Daphne didn't appear interested in sitting with Harry, so they all stuck with their respective housemates. Harry attempted to catch his professor's eye, but had no luck. He sat down, hoping to get a sign that they were still friends. They all sat in silence for a few moments, waiting for their professor to move or speak.

"Welcome," Quirrell eventually began, "This is your first lesson in Defence Against the Dark Arts, one of your most important classes. I'm supposed to tell you that hopefully you will never need the spell I will teach you here, but that is frankly a fallacy. By the time each of you reach adulthood, you will no doubt have found a use for almost every basic skill you will learn in this class. Some of you… already have."

Here, suddenly, he made eye contact with Harry, staring at him. Just as quickly, he turned away and strode to the blackboard. A flick of his wand and the chalk was writing notes as he spoke.

"This class is designed to _keep, you, alive_ ," he said. "The Wizarding World is not a place full of sunshine and daydreams. There is danger here. There is danger _everywhere_. This class will teach you the magic you need to identify these dangers and to defeat them. I will teach you how to face cursed items, magical creatures, and even each other. Now-"

Quirrell was suddenly interrupted when the door burst open and two bulky Slytherin boys rushed in. Harry recognised them as Malfoy's companions on the train, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. When they saw the class all seated and Quirrell at the board, both boys froze. Quirrell walked towards them slowly, eyeing them up.

"I would have expected… _better_ … from the house of ambition," he said and the pair flinched at his chilled tone. "Late for your first day of Defence, boys? How _very_ disappointing."

He turned away, waving for them to go sit. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Malfoy glaring at them as they rushed over.

"Ten points from Slytherin," Quirrell said clearly.

Half the Slytherins gasped and even Daphne looked outraged.

"Ten! They were only a minute late," one snub nosed girl, Pansy Parkinson, protested.

"Would you like to make it twenty?" Quirrell asked.

The Slytherins went quiet and glowered at him as one.

"Now pay attention all of you. These spells may save your life."

An hour and a half later they were packing their bags.

"That was excellent!" Ron said quietly to Harry. "Quirrell is amazing! Just like you said!"

"It was a good class," Harry agreed. "He seems more… ominous now, though."

"Well, he was teaching Muggle Studies when you first met him, right? Maybe he has to take this more seriously," said Ron.

"Yeah, maybe."

All packed up, the two boys followed their classmates out of the room only to stop when their professor called out to them.

"It's an absolute pleasure to see you again, Mister Potter."

Harry beamed at his professor who gave a small, odd laugh.

"Don't worry. I'll always remember _you_ , Harry."

Harry's smile didn't leave his face as he and Ron continued on their way.

"I knew he wouldn't have forgotten me," he said to Ron, exulted.

"Yeah. Looks like you're going to be the teacher's pet for that class," his friend teased.

Harry shoved him, then took off in a run.

"Race you outside!"

o

The rest of the day and the following few passed smoothly. Harry and Ron spent most of their time paired up together, exploring Hogwarts and its grounds. They soon found the Library and were quite stunned by the sheer volume of books. Ron dramatically declared they'd have read every book in there by the end of fifth year, not that Harry believed him for a second. Reading was not one of Ron's passions. The Quidditch pitch was also found and explored. Both boys dreamt of playing for Gryffindor. Ron wanted to be keeper, while Harry was undecided between chaser and seeker.

Their second day of class had a double History of Magic period. Harry and the others took only a few minutes to realise how truly horrifying that was going to be. Their professor was a ghost. That should have been cool! Unfortunately, he appeared to be stuck on a looping, monotonous record about Goblins and barely seemed aware that he had a class in front of him. Anthony Goldstein was bitterly disappointed.

As far as Ron was concerned, Friday morning couldn't approach fast enough. He harassed Harry constantly about it and kept him in the common room for the entirety of the evening before, brushing up on their knowledge. Remembering his first experience with Professor Snape, Harry figured it couldn't possibly hurt to do some extra studying. He also thought his friend deserved a bit of a warning.

"Ron, I think Professor Snape is… a bit strict. I met him once and he was very stern."

"Oh," said Ron. "Well, I guess maybe he has to be? I mean, it can be a dangerous subject."

"I suppose so," Harry said.

He wished he could have his friend's faith.

The next morning, Ron took his potions text with him to breakfast and spent the meal pouring over it. His table manners suffered as a result, disgusting Lavender and Parvati and earning him a reprimand from Percy. Once they'd all finished eating, he dragged the lot of them down to the dungeons to await class.

"Looks like we have this one with Slytherin," Seamus said warily, spotting their fellow students waiting outside the classroom.

Most of the students seemed nervous about this class and there was no banter or antagonism between the houses as they waited for Professor Snape. The man arrived moments before class was due to begin, striding down the hall with his robes billowing around him. He made for an intimidating sight. His wand waved the door open and they quickly rushed in and selected desks. Ron dragged Harry to the very front row and pulled his gear out expectantly. Snape walked to the front and paused for a moment before pulling out a list to take roll call. He paused at Harry's name and stared deeply at him. Their eyes held for a few moments before Snape's gaze rose to Harry's scar and his lips curled in disgust.

Completing the roll, he vanished it and stood forward to look at each one of them. Moments passed in silence. Then Snape began to speak in a very, _very_ quiet voice, commanding all their attentions.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he said. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

At this, Harry could see Ron's mouth drop open. Looking around, he saw most of his classmates staring at the professor, too, as though they couldn't quite believe what he'd said.

"Potter!" Snape shouted and Harry's attention snapped back to him. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry silently thanked Ron for insisting on their study session the previous night.

"Er- the Drought of Living Death, sir," he replied.

Snape looked at him unpleasantly.

"Correct," he finally said. "Mister Potter here clearly understands that fame isn't everything. Mister Weasley, where would would you look for a bezoar?"

"Oh, in the stomach of a goat, sir!" Ron said, looking pleased with himself.

"Correct. Longbottom, tell me the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane."

If anyone could die of relief, it would have been Neville.

"They're the same plant. A-aconite," he squeaked out.

Snape looked at the three of them, weighing them up.

"Perhaps… _not_ complete dunderheads this year. Miss Brown, name two common potions that feature eye of newt!"

He worked his way through the classroom until Dean, poor Dean, got one wrong. Snape ripped into him with abandon, selecting devastating insults and removing two points from Gryffindor. Goyle also got his wrong and was similarly decimated, but no points were taken. He then set them all a task and they got to work preparing and brewing. Snape strode around the classroom, snapping at most of them. He leered over each of them, making every student nervous. Harry paid careful attention to his ingredients, trying to ensure he got it perfect.

"No, Neville!" Harry hear Ron cry from beside him and turned to see his friend knocking ingredients from Neville's hand, sending them flying across the room.

"Mister Weasley!" Snape shouted, furious, "What made you think you could interfere with another student's potion? Did I tell you to assist him?"

"He was going to add the porcupine quills before taking it off the fire, sir," Ron protested. "It would have melted the cauldron!"

"Then it would have been a lesson well learnt," Snape said coldly. "Five points from Gryffindor, Mister Weasley, for interfering with another student's work. And five points from you, too, Mister Longbottom, for incompetence."

Ron looked ready to protest again, while Neville looked ready to cry. He did at least move his cauldron off the fire before continuing. The students worked in complete silence for the rest of the lesson and packed up as quick as they could at the end.

"That was awful," Dean said.

"I know," Ron agreed. "Who would have thought someone could ruin _Potions_ as a subject!"

"Never mind, Ron," Harry said. "You can still get really good. It just looks like _he_ won't be any help."

Ron sighed. His friends spent most of the day trying to cheer him up, passing notes to him in history and tracking down his favourite foods along the Gryffindor table during lunch. He was soon back to his normal self and vowing terrible revenge on Snape when he got better than him at potions one day.

o

 _Snape's class introduction and the questions he asked are taken from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone._

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	8. Chapter 8

GREAT THINGS

Chapter 8:

 _Dear Mister Ollivander,_

 _I hope you're well. How are things in the store? Are we still running low on oak? There are some fine trees here that might work for us. If you'd like, I will ask Professor Sprout if I can send you some sample cuttings._

 _Classes are going well. As I expected, I like Professor McGonagall and Professor Quirrell best of all the teachers. Professor Snape doesn't seem to be very fond of me, but honesty he doesn't seem fond of anyone. Ron's gutted._

 _Speaking of Ron, can you please send me my core threader and a slim bore needle? Ron got his brother Charlie's wand and it's not in great shape. I said I'd have a go at fixing it just a little. Don't worry, I warned him it still wouldn't be perfect!_

 _Please say hello to Nolly for me and tell her I miss her._

 _Thank you,_

 _Harry_

Harry signed his name with a little flourish and rolled up the small scroll, pocketing it. He clambered his way back down the roof and lowered himself over the edge to swing back in the window of the owlery. Towers, he was learning, were just as easy to climb as trees as long as you stuck to the ones with lots of windows. Harry waved up to Hedwig who immediately flew down to collect his letter.

"Straight to Mister Ollivander," Harry instructed her.

She gave an affronted squawk and took off, knowing full well where she was supposed to go.

Harry made his way back down the stairs and tried to think what he would do for the rest of his day. First week or not, the teachers had given them quite a few assignments but they'd all been pretty short. He'd gotten each one mostly finished on the day he'd received them. That left his weekend feeling rather… empty. He guessed that wouldn't last past the first few weeks. After all, there were surely clubs and things he could join.

"Harry! Harry!"

He turned to see Hannah and Susan running down the hall towards him with Sally-Anne Perks following behind.

"Hi!" Hannah gasped when they caught him up. "What are you up to?"

"I was sending a letter to Mister Ollivander. What are you three doing?"

"Oh, just exploring the castle," Hannah said airily. "Where's Ron?"

"Beating Seamus at chess, I imagine. He was thrashing him when I left."

"I still don't understand how can be so good at it," Susan said, looking affronted. "He comes across as utterly dense sometimes, but you can't be good at chess without at least half a brain."

"Maybe Ron's secretly _Merlin_ _incarnate_ and is biding his time before he challenges Dumbledore for the role of Supreme Mugwump," Hannah said in a staged whisper.

"Ah, of course. That explains it," Harry laughed.

Behind the girls, Sally-Anne Perks was staring at them like they were all crazy. She was muggleborn, Harry remembered.

"The Supreme Mugwump is the head of the International Confederation of Wizards," he explained to her. "Dumbledore holds the title."

"Oh," was her only response.

"Come on," said Susan. "We're willing to bet galleons that Anthony is nose deep in a pile of books right now. If we don't go drive him crazy he'll forget how to socialise with normal people."

"It is our duty as witches to annoy him," Hannah declared loftily.

All four were soon off in the direction of the library with Hannah and Susan in the lead. Harry happily fell in with their game and with quiet little Sally-Anne, glad of another calm presence to balance out his two craziest friends.

The rest of the weekend passed breezily in a rush of games and studying. Ron happily beat all the other first years at chess, one after another, and then set about trying to change the colour of his pet rat, Scabbers. Harry had felt guilty amusement watching the poor thing squeak as Ron poked and prodded at it. He did feel sorry for it eventually, but that didn't stop him trying to reassure a grumbling, sulky Ron who was now convinced his brothers had been giving him bogus spells. The twins were the bane of Ron's existence but by the end of the weekend Harry and the other boys were well and truly sick of hearing Ron grousing about them.

Harry took a few hours on Sunday evening to rewrite his homework on fresh parchment, eliminating all the scribbles from his editing. Mrs Abbott had drilled into them the importance of good quillmanship and the good habits she'd taught him were being well maintained here. He dutifully printed his work out neatly, but even with this light workload his hand often cramped up. He was starting to get quite worried about what it would be like by the end of the year.

As their second week started Ron came out of his funk about the rat and proved his worth as a strategist. He gathered all the first years Gryffindors at breakfast one morning to share what turned out to be a masterful plan.

"We should split the note-taking," he said around a mouthful of eggs, disgusting Lavender. "Half of us take notes in one class, then just listen in the next class while the other half take notes. Then we can share them later when we're doing homework."

"That's genius," Seamus declared.

"That's cheating," Hermione Granger corrected.

By Ron's unfortunate luck she had been walking into the hall as he shared his plan and had overheard it in its whole. Ron swallowed his food and frowned.

"No, it's not," he snapped at her. "So long as we do our own assignments later, what does it matter who took the class notes? Otherwise we're all going to get arthritis by fourth year!"

The bushy haired girl gave a sniff before looking sadly at Harry and wandering off.

"She's a bloody nightmare," Ron grumbled quietly.

"I think she's a bit lonely," Lavender said. "I don't think the other Ravenclaw girls have warmed to her yet."

Harry made a note to ask Anthony about her later.

"Don't worry Ron, it's a good plan," he said, cheering his friend up. "Let's try it and see how we go."

"Brill," Ron said, perking up again. "Now, Seamus, you should sit next to Neville in Herbology again. Nev's an ace with plants so he might have time to help you if you get stuck."

Neville went pink.

Ron's plan turned out to be a stroke of genius. Their note sharing system saved a lot of aching hands and ink stains. Each student was dutiful when it was there turn, carefully writing out all the important points their professors mentioned. They also soon found that the half who weren't writing were quicker to grasp the practical side of the lessons, leaving them able to help their classmates. Each student was thus starting to come into their own and show their strengths. Ron and Neville still struggled with their suboptimal wands, but at least they were getting the theory and the wand movements down well enough.

As the days moved forward a new diversion was fast approaching. Their first flying lesson was coming up. Almost every first year was anticipating that this was to be their most exciting class and chattered endlessly about it. Every pureblooded boy was busy boasting about their past experiences and the daring stunts they'd all pulled. Ron and Draco Malfoy were amongst the worst of them and Harry wasn't looking forward to any confrontation they may have in the lesson. He had little time to worry about it, though, as he soon discovered a bigger concern with one of his other classmates.

"I- I'm a bit worried about flying on Thursday," Neville had eventually confided in him one evening. "I've not done it before."

"I've flown a little at Ron's," Harry said. "It's not too hard. It's mostly about confidence, actually."

"I'm _doomed_ then," Neville said, looking like he would cry at any moment. "I have to get this right. My grades are going to be terrible in most of the classes. G-gran will kill me if I fail at this too!"

"Hey, don't worry! Calm down!"

Harry was thinking fast. His friend was going to have a melt down at any second and that wouldn't help anyone. He brightened as an idea came to him.

"Listen, let's sneak down to the broom shed after dinner tomorrow. You won't be able to ride them anywhere, but at least we can have a look and familiarise you. Then in the lesson stay next to me and I'll help you. Ron can help Dean and Seamus, too. Dean's got no experience and I don't think Seamus has ridden before, despite his boasting."

"R-really? You'll help me?"

"Absolutely," said Harry, thinking this would be a good way to repay Neville for the wand incident. "Listen. I'm not exactly an expert so I can't guarantee we'll get O's, but I should at least be able to make sure we pass the course! By the end of the year, I _promise_ you'll be a capable flyer."

Neville looked at him, smiling again now. Hogwarts was turning out to be so much nicer than he'd expected. Ron and Harry were closest with each other and Dean and Seamus had buddied up, but at least they hadn't forgotten about him!

o

The next evening after dinner Harry and Neville ran across the Hogwarts grounds and down to the quidditch stands, searching for Hooch's store room. They soon found the locked shed and Harry pulled his charms text from his robes, opening it at the page he'd marked earlier.

" _Alohomora_ ," he whispered, copying the movements in the book.

The lock gave a click and the door swung gently open.

"Come on!"

Harry pulled Neville inside and began looking around expectantly. Spotting the brooms hanging from the wall, he ran over and pulled one down. He turned and held it out to Neville.

"Here, take it," he said as the other boy just stared at him.

Neville tentatively reached out and took the broom, nearly dropping it when Harry let go to grab one himself.

"Okay. Hold the broom here near the top and here near the bottom," said Harry. "Yes, like that. Now, can you feel its got its own energy?"

"Um, no?"

Harry frowned.

"Move it around a bit. Can't you feel that? It should be like your wand - or how your wand _should_ be. Like it's just waiting to respond to you."

Neville looked flummoxed. Harry sighed and set to work. Twenty minutes later, Neville could _kind of_ feel what Harry was talking about. Or at least, he thought he could. Harry then had him set the broom on the floor and instructed him to demand it rise. That… took a while.

"You've got to be firmer, Nev," he said exasperated. "Remember, it's just a broom! You're the boss of it!"

"Up!" Neville shouted and - finally - the broom shot up to his hand.

Neville gaped.

"I did it," he finally whispered. "And I can feel it, just like you said!"

The broom was trembling slightly in his hand, as though it could sense his anticipation. As Neville stood there he could almost hear it singing with energy.

"Brilliant, Nev," Harry said. "Get on!"

"On?"

"Why not? I mean, we can't go anywhere, but look how ready you are!"

Neville beamed and the pair of them quickly straddled the brooms. Harry helped him adjust his grip, getting caught up in the excitement of his friend's success.

"Now, just push off with your feet."

No sooner had the words left Harry's mouth when his friend pushed off and shot upwards, cracking his head on the ceiling. He fell quickly back to the floor, unsupported, while his broom drifted off to the other side of the room.

"Neville!"

Harry was off his broom in seconds and crouched over his groaning friend.

"Are- are you okay?"

"I think so," Neville said, struggling to get himself upright. "I don't think I was meant to do that."

Harry laughed in relief.

"No, not exactly."

Neville sat on the ground nursing his head as Harry set about catching the other broom. He soon had both brooms hanging back on the wall and cautiously went back to check on his friend. He fidgeted a little as he eyed him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better. I'm going to have an awful headache, but I'll be okay."

"If you're sure…"

"I am," Neville said, speaking confidently for once. "Let's get back before curfew starts."

Harry smiled and helped him up. The pair quickly checked the room over and made sure nothing looked out of place, before moving outside and re-locking the door. As he went to take off towards the castle, Neville stopped him with a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

"Harry," he said quietly. "I _flew_."

The two boys were soon off and running towards the castle. It was darker than they'd thought and curfew had likely started. This was confirmed when they reached the main entrance and found the doors locked.

"Come on," Harry said, pulling his friend along.

They ran around the building, keeping an eye out for doors and low windows. Harry eventually spotted a small open window near to the ground that must open into one of the lower levels. Pushing it open, he saw an empty room and clambered through, dropping to the ground. At his beckoning, Neville followed him in. Harry cracked open the door and recognised the corridor outside. Filch's office was somewhere near here.

"We are in so much trouble," Neville whispered.

Harry nodded gravely before leading the way forward. They dashed through the corridors, trying not to be spotted. It wasn't yet that late and many upper years were still wandering about, but first years were certainly expected to be in their common rooms and _no one_ was supposed to have been outside. They made it all the way to the grand staircase and ran up as fast as they could, only to nearly lose their footing when one set of stairs started to move.

"Oh no," Neville gasped, hearing the voices of Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout coming up one of the staircases below them.

Harry said nothing and dragged his friend to the top of the moving stairs. The second it stopped at its new destination they ran forward, crashing straight into the Weasley twins.

"What are you two doing here?" one asked.

Harry recognised him as Fred.

"No time, McGonagall and Sprout are coming," Harry said, pushing past them.

Both twins gaped comically before turning to run with them. They rounded a corner and paused for a moment, waiting to hear if they were being followed.

"W-why are you running, too?"

"This is the third floor corridor," George answered Neville. "No one's supposed to be here."

Any response the younger boys may have had was stopped when they heard the two teachers' voices. All four boys took off again, desperately searching for a hiding spot. Seeing a door, Harry flung himself towards it. He was quickly stopped by the twins.

"No, not that one! There's-"

"A bloody three headed dog in there!"

Neville almost stumbled at this, but George soon pulled the two younger boys behind a tapestry and pressed them against the wall.

"Turn your feet sideways," he hissed.

Harry and Neville frantically obeyed, hearing a rustle as Fred hid himself behind another tapestry. All four went silent, not wanting to risk even breathing as they listened to the teachers approaching.

"-Just seedlings now," Sprout was saying. "But I assure you they'll grow tremendously quickly."

Professor McGonagall said something inaudible to this and the pair stopped at the door Harry had tried to enter. Professor Sprout performed the unlocking spell and the two disappeared inside. Harry heard some sort of music momentarily before the door closed fully behind them.

"Let's go," said George.

The four boys made it back to the grand staircase in record time and were soon up on their own floor, approaching the tower.

"That was an adventure, huh lads," Fred said cheerfully.

"Right you are, brother mine," George said. "And Harry? Neville? Thanks."

"For the warning," Fred expanded. "Would not have fancied getting caught by McGonagall. She can be-"

"Right nasty."

"No problem," said Harry, warily.

"Although, this does beg the question-"

"What were you two firsties doing out so late?"

"W-we-" Neville broke off and sent a panicked look at Harry.

"Got lost," Harry quickly finished.

The twins looked at them both sceptically.

"Right," they said as one.

"Listen, take Ron with you next time you go out to Get Lost," Fred said.

"Yeah, he'll be jealous enough he missed whatever you were doing now," George said.

"And we don't want him turning into another Percy."

The pair gave an identical shudder. They reached the Fat Lady, called out the password and were soon safely inside. Harry and Neville squirmed as the twins grabbed them and ruffled their hair uncomfortably before walking off.

"We have to say-"

"We didn't think _you_ two were going to be the trouble makers of this batch."

With that, they were gone.

o

"Bloody hell!"

" _Ron_ ," Lavender complained as food fell out of his mouth. "That's disgusting."

"Yes it is. Also, be quiet," Harry hissed. "We weren't supposed to be there."

"But a three headed dog? That's barmy!"

"Y-your brothers said it was there," said Neville. "A-and then we saw Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout go in!"

"Whoa," Seamus said.

Harry and Neville had gone to bed immediately the previous night - averting all discussion - but were now trying very quietly to relay their evening's excitement to the other first year Gryffindors over breakfast. All five of them looked very impressed. Even Ron looked more awed than jealous.

"Are you going to go back and see?" Parvati asked.

"N-no," Neville said. "It was scary! I don't think I e-ever want to see a three headed dog."

There was a lot of agreement to this statement, although it was unanimously decided that this had still been a terrific adventure. Seamus, Dean and Ron exchanged silent looks that clearly spoke of the need to one-up this soon. Harry settled into his usual quiet, as did Neville, and the conversation moved on. Minutes later, they were all distracted by a commotion at the Ravenclaw table.

Hermione Granger had just arrived at breakfast to peals of laughter from the other first year girls. She looked much as she always did, but hearing snippets of chatter amongst the laughter Harry realised she wasn't wearing anything on her feet.

"Where are your _shoes_ , Granger?" Mandy Brocklehurst asked with faux sweetness.

Around her, the other Ravenclaw girls dissolved into laughter. Hermione looked like she'd been crying.

"Oh, that's rotten," Lavender said.

"Too right. I hope Padma wasn't part of it," Parvati agreed.

They saw Anthony pull Hermione down to sit between him and Terry Boot, but not before she had a chance to make eye contact with Harry. The look she gave him spoke only of hurt and betrayal. Harry felt awful.

"Why's she looking at you like that?" Dean asked, curious.

"She wanted to go to Gryffindor. I… I kind of told her to just trust the sorting," Harry admitted. "The hat must have wanted Ravenclaw."

"Well that's not your fault," Lavender protested. "The hat might not have _ever_ put her in Gryffindor."

Harry just shrugged, not feeling any better. He was hopeful for a letter back from Mister Ollivander soon. In his next one he'd ask his guardian what he had thought of Granger when she'd come in for her wand. For now, he just had to hope Anthony had the situation in hand. Harry tried to refocus on his breakfast, but he'd quite lost his appetite.

The Gryffindor and Slytherin flying lesson was that afternoon and went rather smoothly after all the initial excitement died down. Harry kept his promise and stuck close to Neville, grabbing his friend's robes firmly when he nearly repeated his launching techniques from the broom shed. Madam Hooch soon had them all travelling in a low, slow circle, trying to teach them how to move consistently without jerking about. Harry could see the exact moment when Draco Malfoy started to get bored. The blonde boy had on a contemplative, wicked expression on his face and was looking around, trying to see who he could jolt. Lavender was in front of him in their circle and soon let out a squeak when the boy suddenly surged forward, nearly running his broom into her.

"Sorry, Brown," he called out, smirking. "Must have lost my focus."

"That's enough of that, Mister Malfoy," Madam Hooch warned.

Luckily, Lavender had some experience herself and managed to keep her nerve and her balance for the rest of the lesson, despite Malfoy's frequent attempts to startle her. Ron was the most riled of the lot and was quietly fuming from where he was stuck watching.

"He's so bloody annoying," he declared crossly when they were all walking back to the main entrance. "The stupid ponce thinks he's the king of the damn castle just because of his _faaather_."

"Don't let him get to you," Dean said, still looking elated from his first experience on a broom.

Lavender was deep in frantic conversation with Parvati about whether her hair had been mussed from the ordeal. The control she'd displayed when dealing with Malfoy earlier had now vanished as she waved her arms about. She and Parvati were clearly always going to enjoy being dramatic. Harry continued to make his mental notes about his friends' personalities, leaving the job of calming Ron down to the other boys. Soon, though, his attention was required once again.

"What's got you so flustered, _Weasley_?"

Malfoy and his goons had caught them up.

"Shut it, Malfoy. And you leave Lavender alone next time," Ron shouted.

"Sorry about that, Brown," Malfoy said flippantly. "I needed some amusement. It's so tiresome when we're forced to take these _beginner_ lessons, just so these new kids don't feel too… inept."

He stared hard at Dean. Behind him, Crabbe and Goyle snickered.

Ron was starting to go red and prepared to shout again, but Harry gave him a warning look.

"Sorry Malfoy, we'll have to cut this short," he said in a polite, uninterested tone. "Good flying today, though. Are you planning on joining the quidditch team next year?"

Malfoy looked briefly thrown, but recovered enough to respond smoothly.

"Naturally, unless an exception can be made this year. I know Professor Snape wants me on the team as soon as possible."

"I'm sure he does," Harry said, looking bored. "Now don't let us keep you. Enjoy your afternoon."

With that he herded his housemates off towards the castle, unhindered by Malfoy or his friends.

"Why are you so polite to Malfoy?" Ron hissed. "You basically just complimented him!"

"That I did," Harry agreed. "He's got too much sway here to risk outright enmity, even if he himself seems to have his heart set on creating it."

Ron grumbled the whole way up to the library but soon settled in with the rest, passing their class notes about. The system he'd created was working out wonderfully. The teachers had been wary at first to see half the Gryffindors not even trying to write anything down, but once they'd figured out what they were doing they'd been very impressed. Professor Flitwick had considered suggesting it to his Ravenclaws but quickly realised that none of them would ever trust a fellow student to catch every important detail. This year's Gryffindors weren't even close to being the smartest students in their year, but their class work was turning out far better than most first years in the past usually managed. Professor McGonagall was thrilled and boasted about it at every staff meeting.

There was soon a little further excitement when Gryffindor couldn't produce a capable seeker. The first years came down one morning to find a sign posted in the common room announcing an open try-out for the position of seeker. Even _they_ were invited! A note on the poster said that if no one capable were found they would then look for a chaser, since Katie Bell would have to step into the seeker position.

Harry had never been so excited. This was his chance! Ron was less ecstatic - he knew seeker wasn't right for him - but he immediately began to plan a training session for his friend.

"You need to see Hooch first," he was soon saying that morning. "The sign says if you're a first year she needs to sign off that you're capable enough on a broom to survive the try-out session."

Neville gulped in the background as Harry just nodded, letting Ron form his plan. Strategy was Ron's thing, not his.

For fun, all the first years went down to Hooch to see who she'd let through. Only Harry, Ron and Parvati were allowed, although Ron made it clear he wasn't interested in attempting this. Parvati decided it was worth considering, if only for the status, and a few days later she and Harry were down on the quidditch pitch, nervously clutching brooms. Their Gryffindor friends were in the stands along with Hannah and Susan. Anthony hadn't been interested and Daphne was harder to reach these days in Slytherin.

Parvati and Harry were accompanied by several second years who were hoping for the chance, along with a few older years who hadn't already been ruled out. They were still a rather sorry looking bunch and the captain, Oliver Wood, didn't seem happy. With him were the Weasley twins and the team's three chasers.

"Alright, welcome everyone," Wood began. "Here's what we're going to do."

Wood went on to explain that they were going to start with an exercise. A difficult route had been set up around the pitch for them all to navigate, to rule out the slower flyers. Those who made it back without difficulty would be paired off to catch training snitches. Then, those Wood liked from that round would all try at once to catch a proper game snitch while facing interference from the rest of the team.

Both Harry and Parvati made it through the speed course, although Parvati was a little shaky. The next round saw them facing off against each other to catch the training snitch, something Harry happily did in mere seconds. Parvati quickly went to join their friends, not looking particularly disappointed. The final round was the source of the most excitement. Harry stood with a second year named McLaggen and one fifth year girl, awaiting Wood's instructions. Above them the twins and the three girls were circling ominously.

"Here's how this will go," Wood said. "You three will close your eyes and I'll release the snitch. In ten seconds you'll open them and take to the air. Your job is to catch the snitch. Your future _team_ mates will be trying to stop you. First to the snitch wins their spot."

"You can do it, Harry!" Ron shouted from behind them, while his friends cheered.

"Ready? Eyes closed…"

Harry kept his eyes scrunched tight, hearing the pretty whirring noise of the snitch disappearing.

"Go!"

o

Half an hour later, McGonagall arrived and approached Oliver Wood, whose eyes remained skyward. Above them, Harry was zipping about, emitting excited screams every time he dropped into a dive.

"So it's Potter then?"

"Yes Ma'am," Oliver said. "Caught the snitch in a minute and a half when I had him up against the other two. He's caught it twice more since then, even with the rest of the team playing against him."

"He flies like his father," the professor said admiringly.

Oliver said nothing, just watched his new team. In the stands, the first years were cheering and celebrating Harry's every move.

"I'll get him an exception," McGonagall said. "You've got the potential for a winning team here, Mister Wood. Don't let me down."

"We won't," he promised her.

Above them, Harry let out a whoop of triumph.

"Got it!" he shrieked, barrelling down to show Wood. "Can I go again?

o

Thank you all for reading this. I hope you've enjoyed the chapter! Please leave a review if you have the time.


	9. Chapter 9

GREAT THINGS

Chapter 9:

It took very little time for word to go around that Harry Potter had been selected as the Gryffindor team's seeker. Rumours spread through the castle like wildfire. Some said he'd flown without a broom, others stuck to accusing teachers of favouritism. One rumour suggested it had been a professional player using polyjuice potion. Some people thought that the only likely explanation. What it all meant, though, was that by the time Professor McGonagall announced it at dinner that evening, almost everybody already knew.

"You've got to be the youngest seeker in… well, a century!"

Harry blushed under Ron's praise as his friends all chorused in agreement. It had been unanimously decided by the Gryffindor first years that his achievement was "amazing" and the upper years had let them throw a small party in the tower common room. The first years were now spread out in front of the fireplace, feasting on the mountain of cakes the elves had brought them, trying valiantly to defend their stash from the Weasley twins' raids. Butterbeer had been provided for toasting and they all ate and drank far more than they should. Harry's stomach was so full it hurt.

"Did you see Malfoy's face when McGonagall announced it at dinner," Ron crowed. "He turned as green as his tie!"

Lavender's smile at this was just a little vindictive. She hadn't forgotten the Slytherin boy's antics at their flying lesson.

"I'll bet he tries to force his way on the Slytherin team now," she said. "Not that they'd take him!"

"I wish they would," Harry commented. "I'd much rather face him than Higgs."

"Nah, you can take old Higgs, Harry," Fred said as he and George arrived to steal more cakes. "Your main worry is us getting bored-"

"-And turning the bludgers back 'round on you!"

All the first years rose up in protest to defend their friend, but Harry merely grinned. He'd had the chance to meet all his new teammates after the try out. He was pretty certain the three chaser girls would keep the twins in line come game day. Although, as he watched the twins steal yet more of their cakes, he knew they'd always be trouble!

"Gerroff," Ron grumbled as one twin ruffled his hair, successfully distracting him enough for the other brother to steal his cakes.

"Alright Fred, George, leave the kids alone," Percy said, coming over. "Now you lot, I know you've had fun but it's time for bed now."

They all groaned. Slowly and reluctantly, the eleven year olds divided up their cakes and headed off to bed, bidding goodnight to the remaining upper years.

o

After his appointment to the quidditch team, Harry's time at Hogwarts seemed to fly by. The inclusion of quidditch practice had filled up his slightly empty schedule and kept him feeling busy. Hooch had passed him out of flying lessons with an O, so he now used that time to practice the drills he'd been given by Oliver Wood. Malfoy, fuming, used the classes to antagonise Harry's housemates and seemed intent on giving Neville and Lavender palpitations every time they saw a broom. It made for a very unhealthy class environment and Madam Hooch was nearly ready to tear her hair out after every lesson. Harry was glad to be missing it.

Another benefit of the passing weeks was that the other students seemed to finally get used to his presence as a celebrity. They'd stopped gaping at him in the corridors and bursting into chatter the second he passed by. This had been heavily influenced by the behaviour of the other first year Gryffs, who had all closed ranks around their famous friend. The small group of seven had become fast friends, highly impressing the upper years for their show of house unity. Gryffindor was soon well ahead in the house points competition, in no small part due to the first years regularly earning points for their displays of teamwork.

Harry's favourite classes continued to be transfiguration and defence. Professor McGonagall was strict and drove them hard, but she always gave Harry a small smile when she called his name. Harry couldn't know that she was deeply proud of her first year Gryffindors and boasted regularly about them in the staff room. Their work ethic was impressing all the teachers, who could all tell the difference between a well-prepared assignment and a rushed one.

Professor Quirrell also seemed to have a soft spot for Harry and was far less subtle about it than Professor McGonagall. He called on Harry regularly in class and gave him points for every answer. He also took to keeping Harry back after class for a few minutes for a chat. He always wanted to know what Harry was up to and how he was enjoying Hogwarts. Harry thought the professor was wonderful.

"I wonder that you have so many friends in the other houses, Harry," Quirrell said to him after class one day. "Tell me, are you building your own little network? Planning to take over the world?"

Harry laughed a little.

"No sir," he said. "It's just kids I knew growing up. We've all ended up in different houses here."

"Don't be too quick to turn against the idea of power, Harry. With your influence, you could run the Wizarding World one day."

Harry shook his head.

"I don't think I'd want to, sir. Besides, the only ones I really know in other houses are my old friends from before Hogwarts - Anthony and the girls. Anthony Goldstein, that is."

"I see," Quirrell said. "It must be difficult to maintain such friendships. What with you all being so very… different."

"It's hard sometimes," Harry confessed. "I don't see them as much. But they're all great. Really!"

"I'm sure they are," said Quirrell. "Run along now, Harry. Don't be late for lunch!"

Much as Harry liked Quirrell, even he had to admit the professor was unreasonably strict on the Slytherins. It absolutely outraged Daphne. She groused about it regularly to Harry on the few occasions he still got to speak with her. Professor Quirrell was becoming something of a sore spot between the pair as they disagreed so entirely about him. Harry secretly wished his favourite teacher would be a little nicer to the House of Cunning, just so he wouldn't have to defend him so often to Daphne.

"He's a bigot," Daphne insisted to him one afternoon in the library. "He hates all of us Slytherins without exception, no matter what we do."

"He doesn't," Harry protested. "He's just… strict."

Daphne just looked at him with one eyebrow raised.

"Just strict? In equal amounts as he is with other houses?"

"Well, no, but…" Harry trailed off somewhat awkwardly.

"But what? Would you enjoy it if a teacher was like that with you?"

"Well, Snape is," Harry pointed out.

Daphne glared at him.

"And _all_ the other teachers are to us! _Especially_ Quirrell!"

"Well…" Harry searched for words. "Maybe they want you to prove yourselves?"

Daphne gave him a look somewhere between pity and disgust. She gathered her books and quills, got up, and left without another word, brushing past Anthony who was at another table with the Ravenclaw boys and Granger.

That was another thing causing Harry serious worry at Hogwarts. It was becoming more and more obvious that Hermione Granger was being horribly bullied by her female housemates. Her belongings and homework seemed to regularly go missing and she looked terribly unhappy whenever anyone saw her. She was still herself in class and answered every question excellently, but something was clearly wrong.

"It's because she's so different," Anthony explained to Harry when he asked in charms class a few days later. "We're all supposed to be clever - being Ravenclaws - but she's exceptionally brilliant. The other girls are hugely put out that she's beating them since she has absolutely no background in the Wizarding World."

"Can't you stop them?" Harry asked, outraged. "It's just nasty!"

Anthony only shrugged.

"There's nothing we can do. They share a dorm and she won't accuse them directly. I'd tell Flitwick, but she asked us not to. It doesn't help that it's something of a Ravenclaw tradition to do this. I don't think the prefects would interfere, even if she did make a fuss."

"Ravenclaws sure do seem clever," Harry said, his tone somewhere between sarcastic and glum.

Anthony shrugged again.

Harry's next attempt was to go through Parvati. She went and spoke to her twin and came back fuming. Her sister had been unimpressed at the interference and they'd fought bitterly. However, she did at least learn that her sister wasn't the instigator and was just trying to keep her head down. Mandy Brocklehurst and Morag MacDougal appeared to be the main antagonists.

"Why do you feel so personally responsible?" Lavender asked Harry after Parvati had finished. "It's not like you're friends with her or anything. Didn't you just meet her once on the train?"

"I know but… it's not right," Harry said, a little plaintively.

Lavender and Parvati exchanged a glance and sighed.

"No, it's not," they agreed.

Harry had little time to worry about Hermione Granger as the weeks went on. It felt like he'd only just arrived at Hogwarts, but already Halloween was upon them.

"Halloween's great," Ron exclaimed. "At home Mum always makes treats and decorates the house. I bet they do the same here! Although, I should warn you that the twins will use this for pranks. Check your food carefully!"

The other boys all nodded at his warning. They were familiar with the twins' antics and had no intention of falling victim too easily.

Ron's prediction of a feast turned out to be right. Dumbledore announced it at lunch a few days before the big event. Ron was nearly salivating in anticipation for several days straight, enthralling Dean with descriptions of amazing magical dishes. They could hardly wait!

When Halloween arrived, excitement tingled in the air throughout the castle. Classes were still on for the day but no one could concentrate. The teachers seemed aware of that and gave them only a light workload, sticking to easy practicals or quick and cheery lectures. Charms was their last class and Flitwick kept it simple, giving them each a feather to practice the levitation charm on. Hermione Granger predictably got it first, but for once it seemed like she was going to be the only one. Everyone else was simply too distracted! At the end of the uneventful class, Harry and Anthony watched her quickly rush off before any of the other Ravenclaws were packed up.

"She does that these days," Anthony murmured as they saw a couple of the other Ravenclaw girls leave after her. "I think the girls are sending hexes at her if they catch her in the halls."

Harry sighed.

"C'mon Harry," Ron called. "There's only a few hours before the feast!"

Knowing better than to get between Ron and food, Harry quickly packed up and they all rushed back to the tower. Anthony left on his own.

"I bet they've got mountains of dessert," Ron declared, nearly drooling.

"And butterbeer. Oh, d'ya think they'll give us fire whiskey?" Seamus asked.

Harry rolled his eyes and fell in with Neville. The shyer boy made for good company in Harry's opinion as neither of them were that keen on mindless chatter. They followed their more boisterous friends back to the common room and found themselves a spot to spread out and do homework.

Their study system was working fairly efficiently now. They'd begun to figure out who took the best notes for each topic and who was more likely to struggle and were falling into natural patterns. Neville, for example, was the best of them all at Herbology and truly seemed to come into his own when explaining something complicated to the rest of them. Ron didn't have that kind of natural gift with potions, but his passion made him the best person to help the others. None of them could catch Harry in Defence, but they all quietly thought there might be a little teacher bias there. Quirrell wasn't shy about favouring Harry. Ron had already commented that his friend needed to be careful not to generate resentment amongst the other first years, but there wasn't much Harry could do about it.

They finished their work quickly and rushed their books back upstairs to their dorms. Ron was already panicking that they may miss the best of the food so hurrying was essential. It took only minutes for them to run back through the school to the Great Hall and find seats among the slowly growing swell of students. Seeing red hair and blond pigtails at the other table, Harry excused himself and quickly went over to say hello to Hannah and Susan.

"Harry, did you hear? The Ravenclaw girls pranked Granger again," Hannah immediately said.

"What, this afternoon? No, I hadn't heard," Harry said. "I just saw her in Charms. What did they do?"

"We're not sure, sorry," said Susan. "They're gloating about it, though, and Granger's not here for the feast. Maybe ask Anthony?"

A Hufflepuff prefect arrived and shooed Harry back to his own table before he could continue the conversation. Back at Gryffindor he found Seamus and Dean keeping the others in hysterics with their impressions of Professor Snape.

" _Mister_ Thomas, you ignorant buffoon," Seamus was saying with a low, threatening drawl. "Is there a reason why your potion is pink?"

"Fifty points from Gryffindor, for Mister Finnigan's complete failure as a wizard," Dean declared, scowling and throwing his robes up around him.

"Doing impressions are we?" Harry said in his best 'Snape' voice "How… _very_ … disappointing."

Ron laughed so hard he fell off the bench.

Harry pulled him back onto the seat, then endeavoured to quiet them all down as the teachers arrived at the head table. Snape was scowling at them, almost as though he'd heard. As most of the students quickly found seats, Dumbledore raised his arms up, facing them all.

"Halloween is one of our greatest traditions," he began. "I'm sure Professor Binns has taught you all about its significance over the past week, so for now I will just say… _let the feast begin_."

As he finished, food arrived on all the tables. Harry's mouth dropped open at the sheer scale of it all. He'd never seen such decadence! Roasts sat next to hundreds of vegetables, pies and pasties were stacked as high as his head, and pitchers of soups and sauces teetered at precarious angles on top of one another.

"He thinks _Binns_ teaches us about Halloween?" Parvati was saying indignantly. "He barely notices if we're in class!"

"Parvati," Ron said, his voice choking as he eyed the food. "How can you talk about teachers at a time like this!"

With that they all leapt into action and began snatching at food and filling their plates. The noise in the hall was deafening as hundreds of students chattered and shouted excitedly. Minor fights broke out everywhere over particular dishes before more would be spotted at different places along the tables. It was all tremendous fun.

"They've got sausages," Lavender shrieked, grabbing for them.

"I love sausages," Neville said, then blushed when Lavender dumped three of them on his plate.

"We're out of gravy," Ron groaned, before yelling in delight when the boat refilled itself.

Harry settled in to eat what he thought was a sensible amount, but even he couldn't help but take more and more of his favourites. Eventually when he was nearly full, he slowed down to wait for dessert. Around him the volume hadn't lowered and even as the eating began to slow the merriment continued. Further up the table he could see the twins had stopped eating and had their heads together, clearly planning something. Moments later there was a small bang and one of the roasted chickens took off down the table on newly sprouted purple legs. The twins high-fived each other and everyone around them cheered.

A good hour into the feast - when even Ron was nearing his full - the party was suddenly interrupted by an loud thud that shook the pitchers on the tables. There was a brief pause in the conversation as everyone looked around for the source. Harry and Ron instantly looked at the twins, but recognised uncertainty on their faces, too. A moment later, a second thud sounded. This one seemed bigger. They could feel it vibrating through the floors. The room was starting to go quiet as another thud sounded before running footsteps could be heard from outside.

Surprised shrieks sounded from all directions as the doors burst open with a crash and Filch and his cat came running in.

"There's a troll in the castle," the aged caretaker shouted. "A troll!"

There was silence for a moment, then students began to scream. Neville went dead white and Ron let out a high pitched squeak. Harry jumped up on the bench, then the table, and looked around frantically above the crowd. He saw students beginning to panic, surging around each other, not sure where to go. At the front of the room he saw with relief that Quirrell had already jumped down from the podium and was running through the hall, presumably off to face the troll. Snape was frantically talking to Dumbledore who stood and produced a loud bang from his wand.

" _Quiet_!"

The students froze at the headmaster's voice and the room went silent, bar a few quiet sobs from a couple of children at different tables. Lavender, Harry saw with concern, was silently crying in fear.

"Everyone is to remain calm. Prefects, escort your charges to the common rooms. Teachers, follow me and we will find our intruder."

The noise picked back up as Dumbledore and the other teachers left, but with their new instructions the prefects were soon able to round everyone up and begin making their way towards their various houses. Younger students - including Harry and his friends - were pressed together to form a semblance of a line, while older students joined the queues in front and behind their younger housemates. Percy was filled with self importance and was leading Gryffindor, but Harry and Ron knew him well enough to see the worry on his face.

It was a tense, quiet journey back to Gryffindor Tower. With no word from Filch about where in the castle the troll had been, everyone was on high alert. The loud thuds they'd heard earlier could still be heard every few minutes, but no one could tell if they were getting closer or further away. Harry took that as something of a good sign, but Lavender's teary face meant none of them could feel much better.

As they reached the entrance and Percy got the door open, there was a clamour of movement. Everyone rushed to get inside. After some serious jostling, the lot of them were packed inside and the door was swiftly closed. The common room was crowded and every student looked worried. Percy, still in control, began conducting a headcount. As he progressed, the twins settled back to their usual selves and were soon attempting to make Percy lose track by calling out random numbers. He did not look impressed.

Once Percy was fairly sure he had his numbers right, they all sat down to wait. Knowing they'd all made it back, it soon began to feel less scary and more boring, but the atmosphere was still much more subdued than it had been. Suddenly, a loud noise startled them all and Professor McGonagall's voice echoed through the room.

" _All prefects to the hospital wing. All prefects to the hospital wing. All other students, remain in your common rooms._ "

Harry and his friends looked at each other, eyes wide. Someone had been hurt! They began to whisper and speculate amongst themselves as Percy and the other prefects hurried out of the common room.

"Blimey! Do you think it attacked one of the other houses on their way back from the great hall?" Ron asked.

"M-maybe the Slytherins?" Neville tentatively said. "They had the f-furthest to go."

"Or if it was after food, maybe Hufflepuff! Their dorms are right near the kitchens. It might have smelt them on its way there!"

"No, if that was true it would have come straight for the great hall," Dean reasoned. "We were being super loud and there was a tonne of food there."

"What if someone didn't come to the feast," Lavender said in horror. "They wouldn't have known!"

Harry went immediately pale, remembering an earlier conversation.

"I know one person it might have been," he told the others sadly.

o

An hour later in the hospital wing, the headmaster and the four heads of houses were standing over the sole occupied bed. Each teacher looked as though the world were weighing on them especially heavily that evening. The prefects had been and gone with instructions from Professor McGonagall, while the other professors were still searching for the original entry point of the troll. Professor Flitwick had just returned from his own difficult duties and Madam Pomfrey still flitted in and out every few minutes.

"Thank Merlin you got there in time, Severus," Dumbledore eventually said.

Professor Snape did not react. He'd not responded to anything for some time now. He just stood over the bed, staring at the prone figure with a conflicted look on his face.

"What… what exactly happened?" Professor Sprout ventured. "Why was she down there?"

There was silence for a moment before Professor McGonagall cleared her throat to answer her colleague.

"I'm afraid Miss Granger appears to have been a victim of bulling," she said sadly. "Some of her classmates have been harassing her and this appears to have been an unintended consequence of a nasty prank. They got a leg-locking jinx on her and ran off with her wand. We think they intended for her not to be found until the Slytherins used that corridor on their way back to the dungeons, but unarmed with her legs stuck she stood no chance once the troll arrived."

"How awful," Pomona gasped.

"They couldn't have known a troll would be coming up from there," Professor Flitwick said. "But that doesn't excuse the actions. It was a cruel and infinitely dangerous position to leave a young girl in. Given what happened, she has been lucky to only be dealing with a broken leg."

The tiny professor turned to his Slytherin counterpart.

"Severus, I can't thank you enough for rescuing the poor girl. I can only imagine the news I would be bringing her parents now if you hadn't found her and the troll in time."

Professor Snape continued to ignore them all.

"What punishment are the other girls facing?"

"Miss Brocklehurst has been expelled," Professor Dumbledore said gravely in a voice that allowed no argument. "Miss MacDougal will be suspended until after Christmas, although her parents may choose to hold her back to start again next year, given how much she will miss. The other girls I believe did not know exactly what had been done. They will, however, face detention for their involvement in the bullying."

"I've already spoken to the Brocklehursts and MacDougals," Flitwick said, sighing. "The Brocklehursts will likely re-enrol their daughter in another school overseas, rather than let her wand be snapped. I don't see any sense in fighting them on that. She is young, after all."

"But why?" Professor Sprout said sadly. "Why did they do it?"

"They were jealous of her cleverness," Snape said bitterly. "She was the smartest of them all. They couldn't stand to see a _muggleborn_ girl shine so bright."

Shaking himself, Snape spun and stalked away towards the door. As he pushed it open, he paused and turned back to face them, weary anger in his eyes as he looked at the headmaster.

"They never change, Albus," he said hoarsely. "Never. You can stop trying to convince me that they do."

With that, he was gone.

"On a day like today I struggle not to agree with him," Professor McGonagall quietly said.

Professor Dumbledore let out a sad sigh and leant down to tuck the girl in a little better. He straightened back up slowly, looking somehow far older than he ever had before. The night's actions had clearly affected him badly.

"I know, Minerva. I know," he finally replied. "But now is not the time to wallow in sadness and regret. With all that has happened, I'm afraid we professors still have work to do this evening. The troll perished under Severus' attack, but its remains must be removed. Pomona, would you be so kind as to fetch Argus and meet me there? The three of us will tackle that unpleasant duty together. Minerva, Filius, I know you have plenty of paperwork to do so we will leave you to it. I'll send word to Aurora and ask her to come and sit with the child overnight."

The three professors moved away from the bed, leaving just Dumbledore for a few moments standing, hunched, over the tiny figure.

"My poor, dear girl," he whispered.

o

Well this took a little while! Hopefully that doesn't become a habit. Thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you. Please leave a review if you have a little time.


	10. Chapter 10

GREAT THINGS

Chapter 10:

The morning after halloween had the entire castle in uproar. Word quickly got out that a first year Ravenclaw had been brutalised by the troll and that it was all the fault of her housemates for leaving her in a leg-lock in the dungeons. The outrage that resulted from this had most of Hogwarts ready to do battle with any Ravenclaw they encountered.

Things didn't simmer down until Dumbledore announced Mandy Brocklehurst had been expelled, Morag MacDougal was suspended and the rest of the culprits would all be facing weeks of detention. Even so, the remaining Ravenclaw students found themselves subjected to glares from all three of the other houses, even Slytherin (although who really knew how much was for show). To not notice a first year girl was missing - let alone the horrid bullying in the first place - was truly scandalous. The clever house was left feeling rather ashamed under the universal derision of their fellow students and the disappointment of their head of house.

Harry, for his part, was feeling equally awful. Despite the reassurance of his friends, he felt highly ashamed for not thinking of Hermione Granger in the great exodus from the hall. He insisted upon making amends as soon as possible, extracting promises from all his friends to visit the poor girl as soon as they had the chance.

"I'm going after breakfast," Harry informed his fellow Gryffindors. "Who's coming?"

"Not all of you," George Weasley interrupted them, sliding onto the bench next to Harry. "Madam Pomfrey will never let you all in."

"Go in little groups," Fred chimed in with a nod. "The poor little firstie will probably be overwhelmed if you come at once anyway."

Harry looked around at the others somewhat plaintively, waiting for a volunteer to come with him. Neville soon offered, remembering the pleasant girl who'd helped find Trevor on the train all those weeks ago. The others all looked a little awkward.

"We'll go later, Harry," Ron said. "Really, we will! It's just… if she's all beat up and bruised I don't think she'd want us all there right now."

"I'll go," Anthony said from behind them, drawing their attention. "I- I should go."

"No," Harry said, glaring at his friend. "No Ravenclaws."

Anthony stared at him, hurt evident in his expression, but Harry stubbornly glared back. Without a word, Anthony turned and quietly went back to his own table.

Harry wolfed down the rest of his breakfast in silence, trying to quell the guilt he kept feeling. Realistically he knew he hadn't been involved, but he still felt like he ought to have done something. Anything. Soon he was up and off with Neville obediently following after him. As they exited the hall they bumped directly into Daphne Greengrass, nearly knocking the girl over. Recovering her poise quickly, she soon assessed the cause of their urgency.

"Dragging Longbottom off to see Granger, are you?"

"Yep," Harry said, then brightened with an idea. "And you're coming, too."

"I am not," Daphne said, startled.

"Yes, you are. You met her on the train, remember? And then while we were waiting to be sorted? She stood next to you."

"That doesn't mean I liked her, Harry. She…" Daphne curled up her nose. "She _talks_."

Harry assessed his friend soberly. Under is gaze, she immediately began looking uncomfortable.

"Daphne," Harry said, staring directly into her eyes. "It's the right thing to do."

Silence reigned for a moment before the Slytherin girl sighed.

"Alright Harry, you persuasive git. Let's get on with it."

The odd trio made their way through the halls at a more sedate pace than Harry would have liked, but Daphne had never been one to be rushed. Her calmness was one of her most positive features, one Harry usually admired greatly. Today, though, he was struggling not to snap at her.

It made little difference in the end as the hospital wing was yet to open for visitors when they finally did arrive. Madam Pomfrey was uninterested in accepting casual visitors before a reasonable hour and kept them waiting rather deliberately. Finally, she opened the door and looked down at the three. She didn't seem to be impressed.

"Just the three of you?" Madam Pomfrey asked, "Very well. A small number should be okay. You can visit for ten minutes. _Don't_ rile her!"

They all nodded obediently as they stepped in and around the matron. Seeing the one occupied bed at the other end of the room, they quickly made their way over to their year mate.

"Hello Hermione," Harry said quietly.

The girl looked at them in surprise. She looked utterly awful. Her hair was wilder than it had ever been and a nasty bruise ran up the length of her face. Her left leg was exposed and immobile on the bed, still clearly recovering from the break. Madam Pomfrey could do wonders, but she couldn't work miracles.

"What… what are you doing here?"

"How are you feeling, Granger?" Daphne asked in her best polite voice.

"Um… better, thank you," she said quietly.

"Are- are you okay?" Neville asked.

Hermione smiled a little at Neville's anxious question. Then she nodded.

"Um… you look well," Harry said, then winced at his own awkwardness.

Hermione looked at him, perplexed.

"Is Anthony outside? I'd like to see him," she said.

Harry went dark red.

"I told him not to come," he mumbled. "Shall I tell him to come at lunch?"

"Yes please," Hermione said, looking at him sadly.

Harry made awkward noises as he began to flounder. He felt Neville's steadying hand on his back, stopping him from panicking. He couldn't do right for doing wrong! What should he do? What was he to-

Harry's thoughts cleared. What would Mister Ollivander do? That's how he'd fix this. He'd think like his guardian. And his guardian would… his guardian would observe.

Harry looked at Hermione carefully, unknowingly taking on his mentor's eerie stare. She looked sad. She looked lonely. Now, why would she be acting surprised that they'd visited? Did she think they hadn't known she was hurt? No, she must have known that the news would spread around the castle. Maybe she thought they'd never noticed the bullying? No, again, she must have known they'd seen. But in class and at meals she aways looked at Harry with such hurt, such betrayal. Which meant she did know he'd seen. And it meant that she thought…

"I'm sorry you thought we didn't care," Harry said quietly. "We did, I promise. I'm so so sorry you felt alone."

There was silence for a moment as Hermione stared at him.

"W-what?" She finally said.

"We did care. We all did. What they were doing was rotten, but none of us could figure out how to do anything about it," Harry continued.

She blinked before shaking herself and responding.

"Um, it's alright I guess. I'm okay," Hermione said.

Neville and Daphne had gained looks of understanding now.

"W-we did care, Hermione," Neville said. "You were so nice on the train. I didn't like that it was all a-awful for you here."

"Brocklehurst got expelled," Daphne told her. "MacDougal is suspended and the rest have detention."

Hermione looked lost for a moment, before smiling a little and giving a firm nod.

"Good," she said.

Daphne sized her up for a few moments before speaking again.

"The Weasley twins will be all over the Ravenclaw prefects for the next few weeks, as will many of the others, but if there's ever anything in particular you'd like to accomplish and you need a little help, do let me know."

Hermione's calm smile had a slight edge to it that Harry couldn't recognise. Girls were confusing, he decided.

The remainder of the visit was slightly awkward, but Hermione was calm and full of forgiveness, not accusations. She extracted promises from the two boys to deliver class notes for the next few days and she and Daphne made awkward small talk. The two girls still had very little in common. Soon, Madam Pomfrey arrived and shooed them away as they called goodbyes. As the nurse whisked them through the doors, they came face to face with Susan and Hannah who were just about to knock.

"We brought sweets," Hannah squeaked as Susan nodded earnestly.

Harry waved at them as Madam Pomfrey hustled the Hufflepuff pair through to see her patient.

"I need to go apologise to Anthony," Harry said quietly, leaving the other two behind.

It was not a great day.

o

Anthony forgave him quickly, of course. Harry's apology had been heartfelt and insightful, leaving no other recourse but a return to regular friendship. He did go and see Hermione at lunchtime and spent longer with her than any of the others had. Anthony's tentative friendship was the strongest Hermione had so far at Hogwarts and Madam Pomfrey clearly saw the calm Ravenclaw boy as acceptable company for her patient.

Hermione herself was the topic of conversation throughout the castle that day. She would not have appreciated the pity, but she would have been pleased to know that everyone agreed she was inordinately clever. The teachers, especially, were deeply saddened by what had happened.

When she was finally released from the hospital wing a few days later - arms full of class notes provided by Harry, Neville and Anthony - she was subjected to much the same treatment as Harry himself used to receive. Stares and whispers followed her down every corridor. Although her face was still pale and shaken from her ordeal, something had clearly changed in her as she calmly ignored it all and walked with her head held high. Her poise and dignity were solid enough to earn admiration from even Daphne. Hermione Granger was shaken, bruised, and still reeling, but no one would dare think she was intimidated.

Harry made attempts to keep up contact with the Ravenclaw girl. She was clearly lonely and in need of friends and he had a large circle of those to share. She was polite to him and smiled when they spoke, but her first friendship seemed to be forming with Anthony. The other boy had nothing but praise for her resilience when Harry spoke to him about her and the two were building a close bond. Harry didn't mind. She seemed amicable to the idea of his friendship on a casual level and it was probably better for her that her closest friend was in the same house as herself. As the weeks passed and the gossip died down, it was rare to see Anthony and Hermione without one another, often with Terry Boot trailing after them.

"It's weird," Harry said to Ron in the boys dorm one day. "I barely talk to him these days. I've known Anthony and the girls since we were little, but I sometimes think just being in other houses means we start to drift apart."

"Anthony still likes you," Ron said, confused. "You guys are still friends."

"I know, but it's… different."

"Maybe having houses based on personalities isn't such a great thing," Dean offered.

Ron, Seamus and Neville looked scandalised. Harry looked thoughtful.

"It does isolate us, doesn't it," he agreed. "I wonder if adults have friends from other houses?"

"My gran does," Neville offered, then looked uncertain. "Or at least, she has acquaintances from other houses. I don't know if she really likes anyone!"

"Me mam doesn't know many witches these days," Seamus says. "The only ones she talks to are her old school friends, 'n' they were all Gryffindors too."

Ron shrugged when they looked to him.

"Dunno, my dad's at the ministry all the time and my mum is home with us."

"I'll ask Mister Ollivander when I write to him," Harry said, getting up. "But for now I'm going to go see the Puffs."

Hanging out with Hannah, Susan and Sally Ann Perks, Harry offered the same question.

"That's ridiculous," Hannah said. "My mum knows people from all sorts of backgrounds! So does Susan's aunt."

"And _we're_ not drifting apart, are we Harry," Susan pointed out. "We don't look down on you just because you weren't chosen for the superior house of Hufflepuff."

"Well, we don't look down on you _much_ ," Hannah said with a sly grin.

Harry threw his quill at her.

"Maybe it's a Hufflepuff thing," Susan said. "We're supposed to be the friendly ones, right? And loyal, too. That probably makes it easier to be friends with people."

"That makes sense," said Hannah.

Sally Ann stayed quiet, as per usual. Harry found himself liking her more and more.

"Anyway, Harry," said Hannah. "You really don't have time to be worrying about this right now. Your first ever quidditch game is this weekend. Gryffindor versus Slytherin!"

Harry's stomach turned at Hannah's comment. Quidditch. _That_. He absolutely loved flying and catching the snitch was a fun challenge, but now that his first game was coming up he was inordinately nervous. What if he didn't get it? What would the other Gryffindors think? Would they all hate him? The possibility was starting to occupy more and more of his thoughts. There was nothing he could do, though. The game was approaching fast and Wood seemed so darn certain that Harry was a good seeker. He could hardly back out now!

o

 _Dear Harry,_

 _As always, it was a pleasure to hear from you, child. I'm pleased that you are doing well in your studies and that you have made such fine friends. That said, I am terribly sorry to hear about the troubles young Miss Granger was having, especially given their tragic ending. She is a bright girl, her wand fitting proved that much. I expect to hear of great accomplishments from her in the coming years._

 _To answer your question about future acquaintances, I must tell you that a great many adults do not choose to socialise with those who differ from them in personality. When you join the world as an adult yourself you will meet many a witch and wizard who chooses not to befriend anyone they have not shared a Hogwarts house with. That, unfortunately, is the way of many close-minded individuals. On the other side, there are also adults like Mrs Abbott and your friend Susan's aunt who have friends from all backgrounds. Others, too, keep varied acquaintances out of necessity for business or politics._

 _I cannot advise you if you should allow yourself to drift apart from your old friends. It is up to you and you alone to decide whose company you will keep, and whose influence you'll allow to shape you towards adulthood._

 _Finally, to quidditch. You have joined the team voluntarily, and I'm afraid that obligates you to try your best. If your best is to step aside and let braver souls take on this challenge, then that is again your choice. However, I think I know you well enough to encourage you to trust yourself and fly with your teammates. I believe your mind will enjoy the thrill of the game and your nerves will soon vanish in the action. Have faith in your talents, child, and know that I do, too._

 _Your guardian,_

 _Garrick Ollivander_

"I had a letter from my guardian today," Harry said, sipping his tea. "He had some excellent advice for the quidditch game."

"Oh? Was it something you were concerned about?" Professor Quirrell asked, raising a brow.

"A little. I've been rather nervous."

"Perfectly natural, Harry. It's your first game so of course you want to do well for your house!"

Harry smiled and took another sip. Professor Quirrell had invited him for tea. Just him alone! Harry couldn't help but feel special. He loved and admired Mister Ollivander, of course, but there was something wonderful about receiving so much praise and attention. He was beginning to crave it constantly.

"Oliver Wood says I'm amazing," he confided, blushing a little as he boasted. "He thinks I'm faster than Charlie Weasley was!"

"Oh, that's very high praise," said Quirrell indulgently. "I saw Mister Weasley play quite a few times while he was here and he was very good. You must be quite something on that broom!"

"Are you coming to the game?"

"Of course, Harry! I wouldn't miss it."

Harry felt a wonderful warmth engulf him. They made pleasant chit chat for a further half hour and Harry tried his best to absorb every piece of advice he was given. Professor Quirrell, it seemed, thought he needn't worry so much about maintaining all his close friendships. He thought it was natural to drift apart and make new friends. Harry still felt uncertain, but he did resolve to stop worrying about it so much.

o

"Okay folks, this is it."

"The big one."

"The one we've all been waiting for."

Oliver Wood glared daggers at the Weasley twins as everyone else tried not to laugh. As Oliver continued with his speech, Fred winked at Harry. The young seeker was a very obvious bundle of nerves and lightening his mood seemed to be the twins' exclusive aim until the game started.

"It's time," Oliver was saying, wrapping up. "Good luck, all of you."

Harry gulped as the world around him became clear again. Gripping his broom tightly, he walked down the passage with the twins flanking him on either side. Above them he could hear the roaring sound of hundreds of excited students waiting for the game to start. Over the top of that he could hear the twins' friend Lee, who was commentating the match.

"Don't worry Harry, it'll be fine," George said, ruffling his hair.

"And if you freak out, we'll just send a bludger at you," Fred offered.

"Then you won't be worrying about anything!"

Harry stared at them as the pair mounted their brooms. A nudge from Wood had him doing the same thing. Lee's voice then became clear.

"And for Gryffindor we have Wood, Spinnet, Johnson, Bell, Weasley, Weasley, aaaand Potter!"

It was only autopilot that had Harry kicking off in time and joining the team for their lap of the pitch. The roar of the crowd was deafening, but as he flew he found himself calming. The thrill of flying quickly overtook all his nerves and he sped round the pitch with a giant grin. A shrieking blur of students that he identified as his friends all stuck their hands out as he passed and he managed to brush his fingers against each of them.

Pulling up in the position Wood had directed him to, he watched as the balls were released and the two captains shook hands. He steeled his nerves again as he watched their glares. This was not going to be a friendly match. Seconds later though, Hooch blew her whistle and Harry was instantly lost in the excitement of the game.

"And we're off! First game of the season and Flint has the quaffle already. Passes to Pucey who passes it back and- _yes_ , a steal by Johnson! That girl is quite the flyer. She passes it straight to Bell who ducks a bludger and sends it to Spinnet. Spinnet, Bell, Spinnet, Johnson- Johnson aims and- NO, blocked by Bletchley. Better luck next time, Angie! Bletchley gets the quaffle to Flint who ducks a bludger and passes to Pummell. Pummell passes to Pucey who- oooh, that's gotta hurt. Weasley gets him with a well aimed bludger and Spinnet steals the quaffle. She's back at the other end, come on now Alicia… she takes aim and GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

The red and gold side of the stadium erupted in cheers. Above it all, Harry tried to tune most of the commentary out and scanned constantly for the snitch. He could see Higgs doing much the same and kept one eye on his reactions, looking for any sign he'd spotted it. He tried a few false dives, luring Higgs to follow him. It.. _kind of_ worked. He mostly tried to keep out of the way, looking for the snitch. Wood hadn't want him to be targeted by the Slytherin beaters before he even had a chance.

Below him, the match continued with Gryffindor slowly gaining a lead. Twenty minutes into the game, they still led by 20 points. It was good, but not nearly good enough to keep them safe if Higgs spotted the snitch.

"Bletchley saves another one from Bell and gets the quaffle to Flint. _Take the slimy git out, Fred_! Sorry, Professor McGonagall."

Harry sniggered, catching a little of Lee's commentary. He was guessing it was only going to get more biased as the game continued. He did another couple of loops around the stadium, watching for the snitch. He was already well beyond his usual catch time in practice, but there was a lot more going on now and a lot more distractions for the snitch to hide behind. Luckily for him, Higgs wasn't any faster.

About thirty five minutes into the game, Harry got his first glimpse of gold. It was hovering near the teachers stand, just above the crowd. Better yet, it was closer to him than Higgs.

Wasting no time, Harry dove towards it, flattening himself to his broom.

"He's spotted it! Potter's spotted the snitch! He dives and Higgs follows, but I think he's too far away to catch up now. He's nearly here, he's right above us and- _no_! Potter gets clipped by a bludger and spins!"

Harry fought back control of the broom quickly and turned to continue pursuit, but the snitch had vanished into the crowd of students. Higgs, too, had lost sight in the commotion and they both hovered over the stands for the next ten minutes, waiting for it to show itself again.

"Sorry Harry," Fred called as he swooped over him. "Didn't get there in time to block it."

Harry waved him off. He kept up his search, methodically scanning the whole area. He knew how tricky the snitch could be and didn't expect it to reappear anywhere near where they'd lost it. Sure enough, minutes later he spotted it again. It had emerged from the bottom of one of the stands and was hovering a few mere centimetres off the ground, right against the wall. It was going to be trickier this time as Higgs was far closer and Harry didn't want to give the game away.

He continued to do ambling loops along the edge of the stands, pretending to be scanning while slowly getting closer. Higgs couldn't see the snitch over the edge of the stand from his angle, but that would change fast it he saw Harry diving for it. Slowly, slowly. Finally, he was just about equal with Higgs when the other seeker moved forward slightly and caught sight of the golden ball.

Neither waited a second longer and they both dove directly for it. They were neck and neck! Harry could hear Higgs breathing next to him and was already concerned. The other boy had the longer arms and at this point, that was what it would come down to. With only milliseconds to decide, Harry pulled a tiny bit higher to give himself room to flip if the snitch changed direction.

His instinct proved right as the snitch dropped quickly and shot off, skimming the grass. Harry did an instant forward summersault with his broom and was off chasing it again while Higgs still had to wheel himself around. The snitch was moving fast, but Harry slowly gained on it. In the centre of the pitch it shot up into the air at a steep angle with Harry following immediately after. He gained, metre by metre, until it was nearly in his grasp. He caught sight of a bludger out of the corner of his eye but this time the twins were there. He was perhaps a hundred and fifty metres in the air when he felt the edge of its little wing brush his fingers and lunged forward, grabbing it just in time before it dipped off.

" _He's done it!_ " he heard Lee shout. " _Harry Potter has caught the snitch! GRYFFINDOR WIN!"_

The Gryffindors screamed in glee, jumping up and down as Harry made his way back to earth. He landed in the middle of his team mates and was immediately engulfed in a hug by a sobbing Oliver Wood. Behind them, he could see the Gryffindors pouring onto the pitch with his friends at the front.

"You did it Harry," Ron shouted. "You did it!"

Neville, Dean and Seamus pushed Oliver off onto the chaser girls and grabbed Harry by the shoulders, jumping around in circles.

"You got it, you got it! We won, we won!"

Harry laughed, caught up in the moment before a commotion behind him drew his attention. There was shouting and shrieking that sounded far less pleasant than the celebrating Gryffindors around him.

" _Watch out_ , it's loose," someone yelled.

"Stop it!"

" _Duck_!"

Harry turned around just in time to see a bludger travelling at full speed directly towards him before it impacted, straight to his chest. His lungs exploded in agony and everything went black.

o

After the noise of the quidditch pitch, it felt strange to wake to absolute silence. Harry lay with his eyes closed for a few minutes, wondering if he'd died. That would certainly be unfortunate. Eventually, the quiet sound of a page turning caught his attention and he opened his eyes.

He was in the hospital wing, in the same bed that Hermione had lain in. He was under a crisp white blanket and his lungs felt… peculiar. Not injured, just odd. Next to the bed sat Professor Quirrell who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow as he closed the book he was reading.

"Feel better?"

"Er, I guess so, sir. What happened?"

"You got hit by a bludger," Quirrell said in an oddly amused voice. "Don't worry, you'd already caught the snitch and won the game. You're Gryffindor's little champion."

"A bludger?"

"Yes, the darned thing got free and appeared not to be very fond of you. Professor Dumbledore was most unimpressed. He's checking it now for foul play."

Harry blinked and frowned, trying to remember what had happened. It came back slowly, finishing with the terrifying memory of the bludger flying straight at him. He carefully brought his arms up and began pressing and poking his chest, trying to check if he was okay.

"You're quite well, Harry. Madam Pomfrey fixed your rib quickly and used a bruise reducing salve on you. It will just feel a little odd for the next few hours while your magic checks you out."

"Oh, thank you, sir," said Harry. "Where _is_ Madam Pomfrey?"

"She had to step out for a few minutes," Quirrell said mildly. "Now, Harry, tell me how it felt. Was it terrifying?"

Harry looked at him in confusion.

"Um, I guess. Wh-"

Harry broke off at the doors to the hospital wing burst open and Professor Snape rushed in, his robes flying about him. Spotting them, he slowed and stared directly at Professor Quirrell with a dangerous look on his face. Professor Quirrell looked back at him, entirely unfazed.

"Are you checking up on Mister Potter, Severus? How very noble of you."

Snape startled at this, but kept glaring at Professor Quirrell.

"Or perhaps it's me you're checking up on," Quirrell said, standing up. "My, you _are_ diligent, Severus."

He turned and nodded at Harry.

"Do try not to have any more… accidents, Mister Potter."

He walked calmly out, nodding at Snape as he went past. Professor Snape watched him leave before turning to give Harry an assessing glance. He nodded, without speaking, and left after Professor Quirrell. And then, Harry was alone.

"What in Merlin's name was that all about?" he asked the empty room.

o

The dialogue of Oliver's speech is from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.

900 followers! That's amazing. Thank you all so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	11. Chapter 11

GREAT THINGS

Chapter 11:

Harry returned to class the following Monday, no worse for wear. Madam Pomfrey had been happy enough for him to return to his normal routine, although she banned quidditch practice for a week. Oliver Wood threw a fit, but Harry didn't mind. His friends had only been allowed into the hospital wing for minutes at a time and he was bursting to tell them about the odd encounter between Professor Quirrell and Professor Snape.

Harry arrived at breakfast that morning to a chorus of well-wishing and an undercurrent of whispers. It had rather shocked the Hogwarts community for the Boy-Who-Lived to get injured so badly by something as simple as a bludger. To defeat Voldemort and then fall victim to sporting equipment seemed difficult to believe. A lot of letters had gone home to parents that weekend with theories on Harry's mortality.

Harry's friends in Gryffindor greeted him with great relief, pleased to have him back amongst them. Parvati and Lavender seemed particularly concerned for his health and fussed over him the whole way through breakfast and off to Herbology, where Hannah and Susan joined in. The boys all looked on in amusement as Harry went through varying stages from awkward to mortifyingly embarrassed.

Not one of the firsties would let him carry his own books when they left and Harry had to fight for the right to walk by himself without leaning on the two girls. It was with some relief then when they got to Charms and Harry could slip into a seat between Anthony and Hermione. Hermione at least seemed to understand what is was like, having gone through her own release from the hospital wing a few weeks earlier. She was still rather amused by Harry's confusion, but confided that she'd gotten similar treatment from the Ravenclaws when she first got out. Hers, though, had been driven more by the guilt of her housemates than by friendly concern.

"I don't mind, though," she said, brushing off his concerns. "Books are better company, anyway."

Harry frowned at this but left her alone. Her friendship with Anthony was certainly genuine and she was slowly bonding with the rest of them, in her own way. Perhaps she'd never been meant to make a bunch of close friends in her own house. They'd never know now.

The thing with Quirrell and Snape kept nagging at him, though, and he spent the whole day dropping quiet messages to his friends for them all to meet in the library before dinner. They all complied and showed up on schedule. They were quite a large group, too, with the Gryffindors, the two Hufflepuff girls, Hermione, Anthony and Daphne. Harry realised it was the first time they'd ever grouped together as one.

"Are you going to tell us what this is about, Harry?"

Daphne sounded amused as she voiced the question, but she maintained the bored, nonchalant appearance Harry had noticed she always had at Hogwarts these days. His other friends were more obvious in their curiosity.

"Something weird happened when I was in the hospital wing," he explained. "I can't figure out what to make of it."

Harry relayed the entire exchange between Quirrell and Snape. His friends all looked puzzled, although none looked worried.

"So? What do you think?"

"It does seem strange," Susan said as Hannah nodded. "Why was Professor Quirrell there in the first place? Shouldn't Madam Pomfrey have been the one waiting with you?"

"Well, Quirrell _loves_ Harry, we all know that," Parvati said. "Maybe he just wanted to check that he was okay?"

"But then why did Snape burst in?" Harry asked, frowning. "And I noticed at breakfast and lunch today that he keeps… _looking_ at me."

"Maybe he's cross that Quirrell got there before him. Maybe _Snape_ wants to be your favourite teacher," Seamus offered, waggling his eyebrows.

"Please, if Snape wanted to be someone's favourite teacher, it wouldn't be a Gryffindor," Daphne said, giving Seamus a dismissive glance.

"Of course not, he hates us," said Ron. "Besides, it's obvious what Snape wanted, isn't it? I bet he wanted to finish Harry off! He's an evil git. Quirrell probably knows that and was protecting Harry from him."

"No!" Hermione interrupted loudly. "No, Professor Snape is _not_ evil."

"Granger is correct, as always," Daphne agreed. "Sorry Weasley, we Slytherins aren't always the horrible monsters you think we are. Unless you push us, of course."

Ron glared at both girls.

"Snape's a nasty piece of work and you both know it. If anyone would want to hurt Harry it'd be him. He probably messed with the bludger, too!"

The other Gryffindors all nodded at this. Hannah and Susan looked uncertain.

"Maybe he's a dark wizard _disguised_ as Professor Snape," Hannah eventually suggested. "Maybe Professor Quirrell knows and since he likes Harry so much he wants to protect him."

"Snape's nasty all on his own," Seamus said as Ron nodded. "Everyone knows that. He's evil. And he doesn't care about anyone except Slytherins."

"Snape is _not_ evil and he never could be," Hermione said fiercely, looking more and more upset. "Otherwise, why would he have saved me?"

There was an awkward pause as everyone remembered exactly who had rescued Hermione.

"He isn't that bad with us," Anthony agreed quietly. "And he watches Hermione too, Harry. It's as though he's protecting her. He doesn't even take points from her anymore."

"I guess that's a good point," Harry said. "After all, people have said things about Snape for years and he's never done anything to anyone, as far as we know. He's just… not a great teacher."

"Well if you're all done accusing Slytherins of the worst, can I offer a different explanation?" Daphne cut in sharply. "Perhaps there was nothing to this whatsoever. Perhaps the two professors just don't like each other. And perhaps, _Harry_ , you have an overactive imagination."

"No," said Harry. "No, something was definitely off. There's something funny going on."

"Well why don't we just watch them both carefully then," Susan suggested. "If there's something odd going on at the school, we'll see the evidence soon enough."

"Sue's right," Hannah agreed, then grinned. "Besides, I like a good conspiracy. This could be fun!"

They all agreed with the plan and quickly broke up. Daphne gave Harry a friendly nod but was clearly unimpressed with Ron and Seamus. She left with the two Hufflepuff girls, pausing to offer Lavender a compliment on some hairstyle Harry hadn't noticed she was sporting. Lavender seemed delighted that it was noticed. Girls got stranger and stranger as they got older, Harry decided.

"It is exciting to have a mystery to solve," Anthony said to Harry. "I'm sure the upper years would have just dismissed it, but thanks for giving us all something to do."

Hermione gave him a small smile but she still seemed upset. Harry guessed a lot of her free time for the next few days would be taken up thinking of ways to absolve Snape of any wrongdoing. She had a mission now.

o

The patrons of the Leaky Cauldron would have been surprised to see Professor Dumbledore during the school term, if they'd had any idea he was there. The old man dressed in muted tones with his hood pulled up looked nothing like the flamboyant professor and moved with a quiet purpose that drew no gazes his way.

Dumbledore crossed through the pub, heading straight to the back room and the wall that led to his destination. Tapping at the bricks, he waited for it to open and stepped through, walking calmly down the sparsely populated alley. It was only the early days of December, not yet close enough to Christmas to keep crowds out after dusk on such a cold evening.

Dumbledore stepped into the small shop, letting the bell above the door announce his arrival.

"Hello Professor," Ollivander greeted him. "How pleasant of you to visit."

"Hello Garrick," Dumbledore said warmly. "How are you old friend?"

"Quite well, as always. How is my ward?"

"Much better now. I'm sure you heard of his accident a few weeks ago on the quidditch pitch?"

"I did indeed, although you make it sound as though it was a mere quidditch injury," Ollivander said. "As though there was nothing unusual about a child taking a bludger to the chest _after_ the game had ended. Quite a curious incident, don't you think?"

"That it was," Dumbledore agreed. "And a troubling one, too."

Ollivander sighed.

"The boy isn't free of enemies yet," he said. "I don't know if he'll ever be."

"I have hope," Dumbledore said. "But given the current situation I'm sure you can predict what I am here to tell you."

Ollivander merely looked at him, waiting for it to be said aloud.

"Young Harry must stay at Hogwarts for Christmas," the headmaster said gravely.

"No," Ollivander said, just as calm as before. "My ward will come home and spend Christmas as he always has. With those he calls family."

"Garrick, you must see reason."

"I have, and I am," said Ollivander, eyes flashing fiercely. "Why in Merlin's name would I leave him at Hogwarts, which appears to be the very place this danger is lurking? Why would I let him think himself unwanted or unloved, the very first time he has left this home? Why, Albus, would you even suggest it?"

"It is what's best, Garrick," Dumbledore said.

"No, it is what _you_ desire. What is your real reason for wanting him to stay, Albus? What are you plotting?"

"Do you truly think I could only have heinous intentions in keeping him from you?"

Ollivander didn't answer immediately.

"My ward will be coming home for Christmas," he finally said.

"No, Garrick, he will not," Dumbledore replied. "You've had a deciding vote in his life for years and that will always continue, but for now he is in _my_ school and _my_ safety recommendations would be taken into account by any reasonable decider. I beg you old friend, do not challenge me on this."

"And if I do?"

Dumbledore looked at him sadly.

"Must I really remind you what happened the last time you ignored my advise regarding the safety of those you loved?"

Ollivander froze, turning a ghostly shade of white. There was silence for a good few minutes as Dumbledore waited, unmoving.

"Damn you, Albus," Ollivander finally whispered.

"I did not enjoy saying it, old friend."

"And yet you did," Ollivander said. "Leave now, Professor. You'll have your way. I'll write to Harry in the morning and inform him."

Dumbledore inclined his head and turned to leave. At the door he looked back.

"Thank you, Garrick. And I'm sorry."

"Leave, headmaster. You've caused enough pain for one day."

The old man left, leaving another quietly heartbroken behind him.

o

"I do feel sorry," Draco Malfoy said loudly, drawing the attention of Harry and his friends. "For those who've nowhere to go for Christmas. It makes you wonder if their families even miss them."

"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron snarled at him.

"No, Ron, leave it," Harry said, calming his friend. "Malfoy, don't you have better things to do than to comment on the home lives of others? Have you bought my Christmas present yet?"

Draco laughed, startled, then caught himself and put on his best lofty expression.

"I hardly think we're acquainted well enough for that, Potter."

"What a shame," Harry said. "I'll have to return the one I got you."

Malfoy's eyes widened, but Professor Quirrell arrived before he had time to demand answers, leaving him uncertain of whether Harry had been joking.

"Malfoy's such a git," Ron said later as they walked towards lunch. "My parents are visiting Charlie in Romania and they can't afford to take us all along, that's all. And I refuse to spend Christmas with Aunt Muriel!"

"Don't think about it, Ron. Besides, you won't be on your own," Harry began.

"Ugh, the twins are a nightmare and Percy will be studying the whole time. I'll be doing everything I can to avoid them."

"No that's- that's not what I meant."

Ron paused and looked at his friend's awkward expression.

"You're not staying here, are you? Is Mister Ollivander sick?"

"No," Harry said, tiredly. "I got the letter a couple of days ago. Dumbledore's suggested I should stay here for safety reasons and Mister Ollivander agreed to it. I haven't been able to bring myself to write my name on that list yet."

"I don't get it," Ron said, frowning. "But you're _always_ in a little danger, aren't you? Is there something particularly going on?"

Harry shrugged, avoiding his friend's eyes.

"No idea. No one ever tells me much," he grumbled. "But yes, I'll be here for Christmas. I'm sure Malfoy wouldn't have been making such a thing of it if he'd realised I was, too.

"Well, at least we'll have each other then. Hang on, you didn't _really_ get Malfoy a Christmas present did you?"

"Of course I did," Harry said, his eyes wide and innocent. "I had Dean ask his parents to buy it specially. Two boxes of muggle Cadbury chocolate. Do you think he'll like it?"

Ron laughed and and spent the rest of lunch trying to keep his friend in good spirits. Harry let him but he was quietly gutted over the whole thing. He'd been desperately looking forward to going home. He missed sleeping in his own bed, laughing with Nolly in the kitchen and reading books beside the fire. _That_ was home to him and he missed it terribly.

He resolved to make the most of it, though, and he and Ron spent the next few days gawking at the spectacular Christmas decorations going up and imagining all the fun they'd get up to when the castle emptied. By the end of term they'd nearly succeeded in making their friends jealous.

"Promise you'll tell me all about it when I come back," Hermione insisted on the last day as they saw them off. "I've heard ever so much about wizarding Christmas traditions and I'm sure Hogwarts must be amazing!"

The boys swore up and down that they would do so before Anthony arrived to pull his friend away into a carriage. All their friends said their own goodbyes and promised to send presents in time for Christmas. Neville told Harry he'd be working on his Gran all holidays to get his own wand and promised to pass on a personal greeting to Ollivander if he succeeded. Harry was happy for him and said as much. His smaller friend beamed at him somewhat nervously.

Eventually it was time and the last of the students clambered into their carriages. Ron and Harry waved until they could no longer see any of their friends then raced their way back up to the main building. They had a castle to explore!

The next few days were a blur of excitement for Harry. He and Ron went through every floor of the castle, searching for hidden nooks and new rooms they'd not seen before. They found some but Fred and George's mocking hints over dinner convinced the pair that they'd not even scratched the surface. Their best discovery was the kitchens. Ron figured out the way in via the fruit bowl painting well before Harry did, remembering an overheard conversation between Fred and George a year or two prior. The discovery gave them an option aside from returning to the hall for meals and the two firsties made the most of it.

"We should do homework tomorrow," Ron said between mouthfuls one day.

"You reckon?"

"Yeah mate, otherwise it's getting too close to Christmas. I _don't_ want to be studying on Christmas day."

Harry laughed.

"Alright then, lets get them out of the way."

Harry and Ron tackled their homework in the library the very next day. They only had three feet to write: a foot each on Potions, Transfiguration and Defence. The other teachers apparently hadn't fancied marking essays in the first week back and had let the first years leave for the holidays without further work. The three they did have, though, were challenging.

"I preferred the last essay about gnomes," Ron grumbled as they worked on Defence. "We don't get Imps 'round our house. Mum keeps them away."

"Hmm?" Harry was only half listening, still pouring through _The Dark Forces_ , looking for the relevant spell.

"This is just rubbish," Ron eventually stated, throwing his quill down. "The questions are impossible! We'll have to write it with just what we have and compare notes with the others when they return."

"It does seem pretty hard," Harry replied. "We've only spent the day, though. Maybe we come back tomorrow and finish it off then?"

Ron reluctantly agreed and they packed themselves up. They'd half-heartedly completed their Transfiguration essay first and Potions was a synch with Ron's background knowledge, but the Defence essay seemed near impossible. Quirrell, they decided, must have been in a terrible mood when he'd picked it. They headed to the Great Hall for dinner, figuring it was probably time to see Ron's brothers anyway.

"Hello Ronald, hello Harry," Percy greeted them with a pleasant nod. "Have you been enjoying the holidays?"

"Hey Perc'," Ron said, slumping onto the bench. "It's been alright until today."

"Homework," Harry said in response to Percy's enquiring glance. "Defence and Transfiguration are pretty impossible for some reason."

Percy sighed.

"Give it here then."

"Really?" Ron perked up.

"Really. Just a look, mind you, but I'll let you know if you're on the right track."

Both boys quickly produced what they had so far and handed it over. Percy read through their notes, absently taking mouthfuls of food as he did. The two boys watched him, hoping his expression would reveal something.

"The Defence topic does seem hard for a first year paper," Percy agreed after a few minutes. "Imps are covered in first year but the spells you're being asked to consider seem a little complex."

He looked at the pair of the kindly as they started to despair.

"Don't worry, you're on the right track. Your Transfiguration papers are pretty good, too. Consider adding another paragraph that references the unknown variable, just so she knows you thought of it. Now Defence, that's a trickier one, but try reading ahead in your text to the section on Doxies. I think some of these spells will show up there."

"Thanks Percy," both boys chorused and Ron beamed at his brother.

They settled into dinner and a lively chat about Quidditch that even Percy seemed to enjoy, although he got more and more distracted as the meal continued. OWLs was the main focus of his attention at all times these day, even if it was months before his exams.

The boys tweaked their Transfiguration paper the next day and wrapped up their Defence paper as best they could. They weren't perfect but neither eleven-year-old had any interest in wasting more of their Christmas holiday on homework of all things. They only had one day left before the big event! They spent it outside playing in the snow and soon tired themselves out. They then wiled away the evening in front of the fire playing Exploding Snap with the twins before all four retired to bed. Harry fell asleep thinking of Ollivander and Nolly. He hoped their Christmas Eve had been just as pleasant as his.

o

"Wake up Harry, it's Christmas!"

Ron's shout had Harry bolting upright. Across the room, Ron was jumping up and down on his bed, waving his arms at his friend.

"C'mon mate, there's presents!"

Harry got out of bed and quickly spotted the two piles of gifts waiting for them. The boys shared a look, then teared into the piles, ripping at the paper in delight. There were so many! Sweets, scarves, books, toys, games, the pile never seemed to end. Harry felt incredibly glad that he'd remembered to owl order presents for all his friends as it was clear that not one had forgotten him. Even the other families from Diagon Alley had sent him token items! Thank Merlin, Harry thought, for Honeydukes and split orders. He'd never have been able to think of individual presents for every single family.

"Oh look, Harry, that one's from my mum," Ron said at one point, looking pleased. "Reckon you've got another jumper."

Harry did indeed - a green one with a big H on the front. He pulled it on quickly and noticed his friend's small, pleased smile. He knew Ron loved knowing Harry appreciated his family. Ron unearthed his own a few minutes later and put it on too, despite curling up his nose at the colour.

Harry soon found his gifts from his guardian - a selection of well chosen wand woods and a polishing cloth. There was also a large, beautifully bound book titled _Best in Flight._ He opened it to find profiles of history's best quidditch players and smiled. Mister Ollivander always seemed to understand Harry's own passions.

"Ooh, that's brilliant," Ron said, looking over his shoulder. "I always wanted a copy of that. It's the best guide you can get."

"Yeah, Mister Ollivander must have ordered it for me," Harry said, a warm, pleased feeling coursing through him.

He picked up one of his last presents and found a box of his favourite cookies, lovingly stacked by Nolly. He bit into one with a smile and hoped she'd liked the magical hot water bottle he'd sent her.

"You've still got one more," Ron said, pointing. "Looks pretty fancy, too."

The last present did look extravagant. It was wrapped in beautiful paper and tied with gold chord. Opening it, a heavy fabric dropped out onto Harry's lap. He picked it up in confusion and held it in front of him as Ron gaped.

"Blimey, Harry, that's an invisibility cloak!"

"No way!"

Both boys turned at the exclamation and saw Fred and George in the door, grinning in delight.

"That's brilliant, Harry-"

"You can get away with murder now!"

Ron glared at the pair in warning.

"It's Harry's cloak," he said pointedly. "So don't either of you try to take it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," the twins replied together.

Ron did not look reassured.

Ignoring them all, Harry looked through the wrapping and soon found a note that had come with the tremendously useful gift. Harry picked it up and read it quickly.

"It's from Professor Dumbledore," he said aloud. "He says it's a family heirloom and he wants me to have it. He says to keep it a secret, though."

"Whoa," Ron said. "He must really like you."

"I guess so," Harry said, frowning a little. What was the professor hoping for?

"You can't have too much fun then," Fred said.

"Not if Dumbledore knows you have it," George agreed. "You'll be the prime suspect whenever something odd happens."

"Which is great for us," Fred finished, grinning brightly.

Harry carefully placed the cloak in his trunk, ignoring the pair of them.

"C'mon," Ron said, getting up. "It's already nearly lunchtime already and I'm starving! Let's head down for the Christmas feast."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of happiness. Harry surreptitiously thanked Professor Dumbledore sincerely for his gift which seemed to please the old man. He also thanked Professor McGonagall for the sweet tablet she'd gifted him as usual. She thanked him for the toffee he'd provided in return before shooing them all to their seats. Following the incredible feast Harry, Ron and the twins built a snow fort in the grounds and even roped Percy in to help them. They managed to get a two level structure built before sunset and the chill sent them back indoors.

They finished the evening with hot cocoa in front of the fire back in Gryffindor tower as Harry wrote a letter to his guardian thanking him for the presents. He hesitated over whether to mention the headmaster's gift, but decided in the end it was worth including. He surely hadn't meant for Harry to keep it a secret from his _guardian_ of all people. Finishing it off, Harry tucked the letter under his pillow ready to send the next morning.

The next day it was Harry's turn to do the waking and he took great pleasure in walloping Ron with a pillow. He badgered his friend into writing a thank you note to his parents, then dragged the grumbling boy through the castle to the Owlery to send their letters. Ron was entirely unimpressed but followed him all the same.

"They wouldn't have minded if they had to wait just a few more hours, mate," he said, a little plaintively. "It's cold!"

"It's winter, Ron. It's not going to get all that warmer today."

"A little warmer is still warmer," Ron mumbled, tucking his chin into his new jumper. He didn't really mind, though.

The pair sent their letters off with Hedwig and a school owl then started off towards the kitchens to beg for breakfast from the elves. They were delayed, though, when they bumped into a familiar figure in the halls.

"Hello Mister Potter, Mister Weasley," Professor Quirrell said. "Are you having a pleasant break?"

"Yessir," Harry replied. "I hope yours has been good too, sir."

"Oh, mine has been quite enjoyable," Quirrell said with an odd smile. "I'm finding I have plenty of time for research and discovery. Knowledge is power, after all."

"I guess that makes sense," Harry agreed.

"How are you both finding the homework I set? Not too difficult, I hope?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other somewhat awkwardly.

"It was a little hard, sir," Ron admitted. "We've finished but we're not really sure we got it right."

Quirrell looked concerned, then compassionate.

"I'll tell you what, why don't you boys swing by for tea tomorrow afternoon and bring your papers with you. I'll give them a quick look-over and let you know what your grade would be. That way you'll know if you need to do anything more."

"Are you sure?" Ron asked. "That seems…"

"Oh it'll be entirely fair," Quirrell said with a light laugh. "I'll not help you write it. But don't worry, even if it was an issue I know Professor Dumbledore is out tomorrow and the other professors have busy days planned, so I doubt anyone will come looking for us."

"Well, I guess that seems okay then," Harry said, still feeling a little funny. "It'll be nice to have tea with you anyway, sir."

"Yes, I do enjoy our chat's Mister Potter," Quirrell said with a wink. "See you tomorrow then boys."

Harry and Ron ran off, making their way quickly to the kitchens.

"It's super nice of Professor Quirrell to help us," Harry said.

"Yeah, I guess. Seems weird, though," Ron replied. "But I suppose you have tea with him all the time, right?"

"Not _all_ the time," Harry shrugged. "Maybe two or three times since September. He's really friendly. I've met him loads of times before Hogwarts, too, when he brought muggleborn students to the shop."

"That's probably why you're his favourite then," Ron reasoned. "He knows you better than the other first years."

"Maybe," Harry agreed.

The next afternoon the two boys made their way to Quirrell's office, homework in hand. Ron had insisted in tracking the twins down before they left to tell them where they'd be. He'd not forgotten Harry's "Mystery" regarding Snape and Quirrell and he didn't want to get caught in the middle of something scary. The twins had seemed bemused by the request, but they agreed to check on them all the same if they took more than a few hours.

With that in mind, Ron seemed more than happy to simply trust that things were alright. He felt rather pleased, too, to be joining Harry for tea with the professor. Harry always came back with pleasant stories and solid advice from Quirrell and now it was Ron's turn to be involved.

Professor Quirrell was already at the door to greet them when they arrived and he gave them both a charming smile.

"Lovely to see you boys," he said cheerily. "Pass me those papers and grab a seat. You sit there, Harry, and you there, Ronald."

"He's always less formal when it's just us," Harry whispered to his friend as they sat.

Both boys obediently handed over their papers as the professor took his own seat.

"Now, why don't you both tell me what you've gotten up to over the last week while I read through these," he said. "And then we'll have some tea."

The two boys shared tales of their exploits and discoveries, quickly getting carried away in the telling of them. Quirrell nodded and smiled at all the right moments as he made quick work of the two papers. He soon handed them back with some little notes covering them.

"A very solid effort, I must say," he praised them. "There's a couple of details that you should expand on but very little I'd change. They're both a solid Exceeds at this point but they could easily become Outstandings."

Ron went red at the praise. Harry smiled at his friend, knowing just how much the compliments and attention would mean to him. He'd known Professor Quirrell would soon put Ron at ease and make him feel good about himself, but it was nice to see it all the same.

"Now let's have a quick cup of tea before I send you both on your way," Quirrell said, pouring out three cups. "I'm sure you both want to go off and play, not spend your afternoon sitting with a teacher."

Both boys smiled ruefully and took their cups. The tea was warm and sweet, exactly as Harry liked it. He sipped it happily as Quirrell began a lively story about an encounter with some pixies. It was a laughable story and Harry grinned away but next to him Ron seemed to be tiring. After a few minutes he could barely keep his eyes open.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked his friend.

"W-what?"

"You seem really… tired."

Quirrell seemed unconcerned. He just watched them both quietly.

"I guess I am. I just… I just…" Ron trailed off as he set his cup down.

At this point Quirrell moved and caught Ron by the shoulders, slowly leaning him back in the seat.

"You rest up, Ronald, there's a good boy."

Harry looked on, wide eyed. A slight knot was starting to form in his gut as the professor rested his friend down and he found himself automatically reaching for his wand.

"Don't worry Harry. This is because of me, I'm afraid," Quirrell said, staying his hand.

"W-what do you mean, sir?"

"Well there's something I need to do, you see. And I need your help to achieve it. It's very important, Harry," Quirrell said seriously.

"It's - it's important? What about Ron? Why is he asleep?"

"We can't involve him, Harry. I can only protect one of you and I'd hate for him to get hurt," Quirrell explained with a smile that didn't seem at all comforting. "Now come with me. We have somewhere to be."

Harry wanted to protest. Something still seemed strange and the knot inside him was growing bigger, but the warmth of the tea seemed to be suppressing it. Calming him down. It sung to him that everything was fine, normal even. With one last worried look at his friend, Harry followed Quirrell out the door.

"It's very, very good of you to help me," Professor Quirrell said in a calm, soothing voice as they walked. "This is so important, Harry, and I absolutely couldn't do it without you. You want to help me, don't you Harry?"

"I… I guess so?"

Even as Harry said it, it felt off. He felt like he couldn't think, but the professor just seemed so natural. Harry followed him through the halls in something of a daze and before he knew it they were at the entrance to the third floor corridor. He balked.

"Now, now, Harry, don't be scared," Quirrell coaxed him even as his firm hand on Harry's back pushed him forward. "I need your help, Harry. You're needed."

"But- but sir, don't you know what's in there?" Harry said, feeling the knot inside him growing bigger and bigger.

"Of course I do, Harry. I know exactly what's in there. That's why I need your help."

Something was wrong, Harry realised. Something was very, very wrong. But even as his mind began to panic his feet continued down the corridor, with Professor Quirrell firmly steering him.

"Here we are," Quarrel eventually said.

"Professor we have to go. We can't go in there!" Harry broke out, stepping back.

"Ah, but we must, Harry," his voice soothed. "We must. Don't you want to help your school and your friends? Don't you want to help me?"

"I… I…"

Quirrell's fingers felt like a vice on his shoulder, holding Harry next to him.

"Deep breath, Harry. It'll all be over soon. _Alohomora_."

o

Phew, this chapter took a while to write. Thank you all for your feedback, it's very valuable. Please review if you have time.


	12. Chapter 12

GREAT THINGS

Chapter 12:

The door in front of them swung slowly open, as though building its own suspense. As it moved an ominous growl filled the corridor. Harry looked ahead into a small room and gulped at the sight before him. The three headed dog Fred and George had described sat in the middle of the room with all three sets of eyes glaring at them. The middle head loomed over them while the other two stayed low and close. It was the most threatening sight Harry had ever seen.

"A cerberus, Harry," Quirrell said quietly. "Stay behind me."

The professor stepped forward and the three heads lunged as one. They bounced backward, as though repelled by some invisible force. A shield spell, Harry realised. The most powerful he'd ever seen! He watched, wide eyed, as the creature went crazy trying to get close to them.

"There is some trick to cerberuses that I haven't mastered yet," Quirrell commented as he watched the creature's efforts. "An easier way to tame it. For now though, stay right beside me, Harry. It will tear you to pieces if you step away."

His hand, still clamped on Harry's shoulder, reinforced this instruction. Harry's head still felt clouded and his body still warm from the tea. He found himself clinging close to the professor, wrapping his hand around a section of his robes. He absolutely did not want to be left behind with this monster.

After a few minutes of careful shuffling, Quirrell had successfully forced the dog to the back of the room, exposing a trap door on the floor.

"Get it open," he instructed Harry. "Now."

Harry inched around his teacher, keeping a wary eye on the three heads that were still beating themselves savagely against the invisible shield. Their heads were bloodied and bruised from the effort. He grabbed hold of the large ring-pull and heaved the door open, then pushed it back to fall with a crash against the floor. He started to turn around to face Quirrell, but felt a firm push on his shoulder, sending him tumbling into the hole.

He landed softer than he'd expected, but as he went to get up odd tendrils started to grab at him. He began to jerk about, trying to free himself as Quirrell leapt in after him, landing far more gracefully than he had. Above them the three headed dog was snarling and snapping at them, forcing one head after the other through the trapdoor. None could quite reach them and the professor soon spelled the trapdoor shut behind them. The noise was still deafening as the cerberus threw itself against the door over and over again.

"Lumos," Quirrell called, lighting the small room. "Devils Snare, I see. Not quite mature, yet. It should be easy enough to get past."

He ripped himself free of the tendrils that were starting to grab him, then summoned Harry towards him with a silent spell. Harry's body flew towards the professor, leaving him to stumble a little as he hit the man's side. It was a most peculiar feeling and not one that his mind seemed capable of registering yet. His head still felt clouded and sickly.

"Now follow."

Harry remained quiet, shaking his head in an effort to clear his mind of the tea's effects. He had little time to think as the professor briskly walked them through to the next of what was starting to seem like a series of obstacles. They arrived at a brightly lit chamber with another door on the far side. Above them Harry could see hundreds of flittering creatures, somewhat like birds. He squinted and realised they were keys.

"Locked soundly," Professor Quirrell announced as they reached the door. "How troublesome."

He looked around the room and soon spotted several brooms off to one side. His eyes then drifted to Harry and narrowed. Before Harry could move, Quirrell's wand came up and ropes shot out, binding Harry tightly. He fell backward as the professor cast something at the lock on the door, then nodded and made his way towards the brooms.

"I'm sure you'd be very good at this, Harry," he commented, "But your speed would far outpace mine. I wouldn't want you attempting to leave. That cerberus would tear you apart in seconds."

He mounted the broom with surprising skill and was soon off, flying amongst the keys.

Harry stayed still, his mind racing. His body was firmly bound, but his head was beginning to clear. As his thoughts started to become his own again, he pushed down the urge to panic. The afternoon's events seemed ludicrous as he pondered them. His favourite teacher had poisoned Ron, dosed Harry, and was now forcing him through the oddest obstacle course Harry had ever heard of. The challenges they'd faced so far seemed woefully under-prepared for whatever their purpose was. Why had they landed on plants that were soft enough to save them and too young to hinder them? Why were there keys here, instead of a trap? And moreover, why in Merlin's name was there a hidden obstacle course in Hogwarts to begin with?

Harry pushed aside the ridiculousness of it all to consider at a later date and instead focused on the bigger problem at hand. What was wrong with Professor Quirrell?

Harry's eyes tracked the professor as he flew about with ease. He occasionally snatched a key out of the air, holding it up in front of his eyes, then released it again. It was obvious what he was trying to do. Harry thought back over the man's actions over the evening, trying desperately to use the observational skills Mister Ollivander had taught him.

The professor had behaved… _normally_ , when they'd met him for tea. His mannerisms hadn't changed and nor had his vocabulary. That meant it was unlikely it was an imposter. Or, Harry corrected himself, if it _were_ an imposter they'd been impersonating the professor for the entire term. He thought back to his encounters with the man over the last few years in the shop, trying to figure out if this was the same Quirrell or someone imitating him. He tried, picturing the way he'd walked back then and his facial expressions, but he just couldn't be sure.

Abandoning that pattern of thought, Harry focused his mind on the professor's behaviour this evening. He thought back to how Quirrell had caught Ron's lagging frame and lowered him into the seat. He hadn't wanted to actually hurt him, but was that an actual desire or out of sheer necessity?

Harry then thought through his own actions so far. Something had clearly been in the tea, impeding his natural thought patterns and making him… suggestible? Was it some sort of controlling potion? Harry found himself wishing he had Ron's passion for potions. Without a little more knowledge, he couldn't be sure what was affecting him.

What's more, if the tea has been contaminated, exactly how long had that been going on for? Harry had been having tea with Professor Quirrell for months…

Nothing was clear and none of this made any sense at all, but there was one thing he could be entirely, utterly certain about. He had been very, _very_ wrong about Professor Quirrell.

The professor had caught the right key now and was flying back down towards him. He released Harry's bindings with a casual wave of his wand and beckoned him towards the door. Harry got up and approached him, not really sure of what else to do.

The professor jammed the key into the lock, opened the door and shoved them both through, closing it behind them.

The room they'd entered was filled with giant chess pieces that turned slightly to look at them as they entered. As with the plants from the first room, the pieces seemed not quite "ready" for them yet and unable to hinder them. hey moved to stop the pair as Quirrell marched them through the room, but the professor simply banished them to either side as they passed, sending them crashing into the walls. They were through to the other side in under a minute.

They smelt and heard the next challenge before they reached it. Snarls and grunts began to echo down the corridor, and a foul odour hung sickeningly in the air. As they opened the next door Harry's eyes widened at the sight of a huge, hulking troll snarling at them. It lumbered towards them but hadn't the chance to do anything before Quirrell pushed Harry behind him and shouted a spell in a language Harry was unfamiliar with.

The beast froze momentarily, then began to shriek as its limbs and body twisted into impossible angles. It's neck arched before its head snapped backward, making contact with its back, even while its limbs continued to twist and pull closer to its body, leaving it in a sickening twisted ball on the ground.

"I have a _way_ with trolls," Quirrell said with dry, detached amusement.

Harry stared at the troll in abject horror as the professor directed him across the room. The poor creature just moaned piteously.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts isn't some glorious, noble subject," Quirrell commented. "Brutality is always at its core."

Harry remained silent. His mind and body were both his own again and they were screaming at him to run. A nasty, sensible voice in his head pointed out, though, that whatever spell Quirrell had used on the troll would likely do far worse to an eleven-year-old boy with no wand. Compliance seemed like the far more logical choice. Compliance and observation.

For now.

The passage dipped downward again before opening into another chamber. In the middle of the room, Harry could see an empty table. As they approached it, flames rose up and blocked the way forward and backward.

"It appears, like the other challenges, that we have arrived somewhere ahead of the designer's shedule," Quirrell said. "In this case, that seems to have worked against us. I would guess that this table is meant to hold the key to our path forward. For now, alas, we are on our own."

The professor stepped away from him, looking about the room. Harry inched himself backward, closer to the flames, trying to feel how hot they were. He soon dismissed the option of leaping through and making a run for it. Even from over a metre away the heat was tremendous and overpowering. He concentrated instead on watching the professor.

"That would do it," the professor eventually announced. Waving his wand almost absently, he summoned Harry back to his side.

"W-what, sir?"

"We need to disable the flames. And as far as I can tell, the quickest way to do that it to convince them there's no one in the room."

"No one in the room?"

"Well," Quirrell shrugged, "No one living, at least."

Harry's eyes widened in panic but before he could move Quirrell's wand was at eye level and a horrible magic was washing over him. He barely had time to realise, with some relief, that it was _transfiguration_ before all he could register was the very unusual feeling of becoming a pin cushion.

After that, Harry was aware of… _nothing_. He wasn't unconscious but nor was he conscious of anything. Not Quirrell's actions, not his surroundings, and not the passage of time. The next thing he experienced was the transfiguration's reversal, morphing him back into his own body. He frantically patted himself down, feeling his own personhood returning. That acknowledged, he turned his focus outward. He was standing next to Professor Quirrell in a new chamber that appeared... completely empty.

Looking around, he saw there were pillars and lighted sconces but absolutely nothing else worth noting. He turned to look at his captor, unable to hold his curiosity back. Quirrell, he found, was looking right back at him.

"Harry," the professor said in an odd, distant voice. "If there was an item you knew with certainty was being taken to a particular location, but when you checked that location it wasn't there, what would you say that meant?"

Harry eyed him warily, unsure if he was actually supposed to answer. But Quirrell was looking at him expectantly now, so he scrambled to think of a logical response.

"Well, perhaps you were wrong about the location?" he ventured, then backtracked when Quirrell's eyes flashed dangerously. "O-or perhaps it means it hasn't arrived yet? If you only knew it was _going_ to be taken to a location, perhaps you arrived before it?"

Quirrell smiled slightly and him natural calm seemed to restore itself.

"Exactly," he said quietly. "I'm afraid I've moved rather hastily, Harry. Iappears I must return to waiting, for both my prize and my prey."

"Your what?"

"Don't trouble yourself, Harry. This doesn't concern you yet. For now, though-"

Quirrell's wand reappeared and Harry began to back away far too slowly.

" _Obliviate_."

o

"Harry!"

Harry smiled at Lavender's call and waved happily at her and the others. Beside him Ron, too, was grinning and waving at the carriage. It pulled up in front of them and the other first year Gryffindors tumbled out.

"Did you miss us, lads?" Seamus asked.

"Not really," Harry replied cheekily.

"We explored the whole castle," Ron announced. "We know where everything is now."

"Now why do I highly doubt that," Daphne asked in amusement, approaching from another carriage with some Slytherin girls.

"Hello Daphne," Harry greeted her.

"Greengrass," Ron grumbled.

"See you in the hall," she said, giving Harry a fond smile. "It's freezing out here!"

The other Slytherin girls - Tracy Davis and Millicent Bullstrode - followed her quickly, mumbling greetings to Harry as they passed.

"They all seem agreeable for once," Lavender commented mildly.

"Daphne's always agreeable," Harry defended her. The others merely shrugged, although Neville nodded firmly.

Seeing another carriage of familiar faces, Harry waved his friends off towards the warmth of the castle and jogged over to greet his other friends.

"Hiya Anthony! Hermione, Hannah, Susan. How was Christmas?"

"Hello Harry," Hermione greeted him. "It was very pleasant. Thank you for the book!"

"You're welcome," Harry replied. "And, er, thank you for the homework planner. It's very… useful."

The Ravenclaw girl looked pleased at this.

"Hannah and Susan have been telling us some sad news," she said, changing the topic.

Harry turned to his other friends. They did look a little downcast.

"Sally-Anne isn't returning to Hogwarts," Hannah told him, looking crushed.

"What? Why not? Is she okay?"

"Apparently she's been really unhappy," Susan explained, looking quite distressed. "She didn't feel she was fitting in and she missed her friends and her old school. Her letter said she was hoping to study to be a doctor one day."

"That's quite tricky," Hermione explained. "You need to take particular muggle subjects and do well on your A Levels if you want to get into any university programs."

Anthony and Harry both nodded, understanding very well what it was like to want to study something so passionately. Harry was still concerned though, and could see his two Hufflepuff friends were very unhappy.

"Did they snap her wand?" he asked, worriedly, but Susan shook her head.

"When she wrote to us I told Auntie and she helped Sally's mum arrange for a tutor. She'll never be able to work in the magical world, but she'll still have her magic."

"Well that's good then," Harry offered.

"We tried to include her in everything," Hannah said, still looking upset. "We tried to be really nice and be her friends, but Susan and I have known each other forever. I guess it just wasn't the same."

Hermione looked at them both sympathetically as the boys tried awkwardly to think of something to say.

"Don't worry, you two are wonderful friends," Hermione assured the girls. "You should write to her all the time! I bet you'll hear back that she's really happy."

Susan and Hannah smiled somewhat wanly, but they did seem to have accepted this suggestion. The five friends made their way up to the castle, chatting quietly about the happier topic of Christmas gifts. Harry resisted the urge to mention the invisibility cloak, remembering it was supposed to be a secret. The girls, too, stayed quiet but Anthony and Hermione were happy enough to run them all through a complete list of the books they'd each received and the best things about each title.

Soon enough they reached the warmth of the entrance hall where Neville was waiting for them.

"T-the others have gone in," he told them. "Ron was hungry."

"Did you get your new wand?" Harry asked him quietly as they walked.

"Oh yes, I did," Neville said, his face brightening as he produced it for Harry's inspection.

Harry took it and held it up to his eye level for an examination.

"Cherry and unicorn hair," Harry noted. "Flexible and a little springy. I think it suits you well."

"It does. G-Gran got a special dispensation to let me use m-magic in the house," Neville whispered. "It's so much better now."

Harry beamed at his friend before movement on one side of the hall caught his eye.

"Potter," Draco Malfoy called, beckoning him over somewhat imperiously.

Harry and Neville exchanged glances and approached. Their other friends looked worried, but Harry waved them off towards the Great Hall.

"Hello Malfoy. Did you have a pleasant Christmas?"

The blond boy looked highly unhappy and shifted about reluctantly.

"My thanks for the Yule gift," he eventually said, standing straighter as he spoke. "Whilst unconventional, the intention was appreciated and should have been returned."

Harry gaped at him as the other boy produced a small parcel and held it out somewhat unwillingly. Beside him, Neville seemed to have a better idea of what was occurring and was grinning.

"Please accept this gift, with my apologies for not offering it sooner," Draco ground out, glaring at them a little.

Harry stood still, shocked, until Neville nudged him. Reaching out, he took the small item, registering quickly that it was Honeyduke's chocolates.

"Thank you."

Draco nodded, then turned and briskly walked away to the Great Hall.

"What in Merlin's name was that about?"

"Pureblood traditions," Neville said, laughter evident in his tone. "Did you really buy him a Christmas present?"

"Muggle chocolate. It was a joke."

"Either way, he didn't get you anything. I'll bet you a galleon his f-father made him do this."

"His father?"

"Yes. Get Daphne to tell you about him later."

"After this? Trust me, I'll be looking him up myself."

o

The returning feast was tremendously enjoyable. Harry sat and ate, contentedly watching his friends as they caught up. Learning that Sally-Anne had been unhappy was making him feel a little sheepish for not noticing it, so he was trying to examine his friends' moods a little more successfully now. They all seemed legitimately happy, though. Even Neville, who had also gained just a little more confidence over the holidays. That was nice to see.

The Weasley twins were still giving him odd looks. They'd been doing that for the last couple of days, but when he'd enquired they just brushed him off. Harry made a note to himself to try and get answers when he could.

Turning his attentions across the hall he made eye contact with Daphne, who waggled her eyebrows at him. She seemed to have forgiven him for his accidental insults to her house before the holidays. Seeing Malfoy sitting nearby, though, he wondered if Quirrell's recent advice about friendships fading way and sticking with one's own house should be heeded. If pushed, could Draco influence Daphne? Or perhaps she'd influence him?

He smiled fondly up at his favourite professor, who tilted his glass towards him in friendly acknowledgement. His help with homework over the holidays hadn't been forgotten and even Ron was starting to lean towards him as a favoured teacher now. His advice had been helpful, too.

"Harry, back me up here," Ron was saying, drawing his attention back. "That transfiguration paper was a nightmare! Parvati 'n' Nev are claiming it was easy!"

"Bonkers, the pair of you," Harry declared agreeably. "It was the hardest paper of the lot."

"No, mate, the defence paper was impossible," Dean said, earning nods from everyone else. "Although Ron says you two cheated!"

"We did not!"

Ron looked outraged at the very idea. He and Harry set their faces obstinately as a friendly argument ensued about how much help was too much help. They all agreed, though, that this conversation was never to be mentioned in front of their competitive Ravenclaw friends.

Eventually, Dumbledore stood up at the head table and quiet slowly descended across the room.

"Now that we have all refreshed and revived ourselves, it is time for another new term at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, his voice echoing across the hall. "Remember, these are the most precious years of your life. This is a time to firm up your friendships and learn all we can teach you. Because I'm afraid, eventually, all good times come to an end."

"That was oddly sombre," Harry commented quietly as the students all began making their way out of the hall.

"Do you think perhaps he's trying to warn us about something?" Parvati offered. "Maybe he knows about the weirdness between Snape and Quirrell?"

"He must do, right? He's Dumbledore," Ron said.

Full stomachs and tired eyes prevented them from hypothesising further, though, and they made their way fairly quietly back to the tower for a long, restful night's sleep.

o

Albus Dumbledore was also tired and more than a little perplexed. The returning feast was over and all his young charges were tucked safely back in their dorms for the night, but rather than feeling content and refreshed after the Christmas holidays, he felt frustrated.

He'd gone to so much effort to test Harry's resistance to the mirror! He'd forced Ollivander's hand to leave him at Hogwarts for Christmas and had gifted the boy the cloak, but not once had the boy decided to use it, aside from one attempt to scare young Ronald Weasley. He'd thought for sure that a midnight jaunt would eventuate and he could steer him towards the mirror's temporary home, but no opportunity had arisen.

The boy, it seemed, was more his mother's son than his father's. Or was this his guardian's influence? He'd never know for certain. Curse Garrick.

Albus sighed. His plans hadn't exactly backfired, but their results were not particularly meaningful either. Furthermore, he'd received a rather irate letter from Mister Ollivander regarding his carefully worded note about the cloak being a family heirloom. That slight manipulation of what the boy would assume would be corrected shortly by his guardian with the news that it was a Potter heirloom, not a Dumbledore one. All the goodwill and gratitude he'd just garnered would be quickly withdrawn.

Albus shook himself a little and steeled his resolve. Plans were already in motion. There was nothing to be done and the trap now needed to be set. He'd wake early the next morning and move the mirror down to its new home and deposit the bait. Once again he cursed that the Ministry wouldn't listen to him about the dangers that were coming and that he'd had to lay this trap in his school of all places. It was a deadly gamble, but a necessary one.

Hopefully, hopefully, it would all end within the year.

o

Thank you for your patience, I know it's been a little longer between chapters than usual. Life, unfortunately, cannot be put on hold. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's a little short but the next one should be longer. Let me know what you think.


	13. Chapter 13

_Note: Chapter 12 got a little editing in late November as I wasn't completely happy with the final result. If you read it prior to that it may be worth re-reading before continuing on._

GREAT THINGS

Chapter 13

The first few weeks after the winter holidays passed easily and quietly. The first years mimicked the older years and soon fell back into the routines they'd formed before the break of classes, meals, games and studying. The teachers - Snape excluded - marked their holiday homework rather kindly, accepting that the first years wouldn't have managed anything exceptional in their first break of the year. Hermione and Anthony were _most_ put out by this, as were Harry and Ron who had worked so hard to get theirs done!

The biggest diversion of those early weeks turned out to be Wizards Chess. Hermione had received a board and set of players from Anthony for Christmas and returned happily enthused by the game. Her first match back at Hogwarts was with Ron who surprised everyone by soundly trouncing her. The shock of that startling victory stirred the competitive nature of most of the first years, leading to a sudden surge in the popularity of the game. Many inter-house matches were arranged, with some of the upper years being convinced to loan their sets to the suddenly keen youngsters. Even the Slytherins participated, although they mostly played each other. Millicent Bulstrode showed perhaps the most talent of their posse, coming the closest of any first year to beating Ron Weasley. Ron himself was delighted with this new opportunity to show off his skills. The Ravenclaw girls, barring Hermione, were politely but firmly excluded from the fun. No one had forgotten their earlier treatment of the bushy haired girl.

One of the other interesting developments of the new term was Morag Macdougal's non-appearance amongst the returning students. Although her suspension had ended with the Christmas holidays her family had chosen to hold her back a year. It made sense, as she'd missed close to two months of classes. With the speed of the first year curriculum, that would be hard to catch up from.

"I'm relieved, actually," Hermione said when Harry asked her about it. "I mean, it's unlikely she would have started up again, what with the punishment she faced the first time, but it would have been incredibly awkward to share a dorm with her. This way once she comes back she'll always be in different classes from me and in a different dorm, too."

"Do you think she's learnt from this? Do you think they all have?"

Hermione shrugged.

"Possibly? They certainly leave me alone now. But… the damage is done I guess. I'm not likely to be friends with them now."

That was true, Harry thought sadly. Hermione was facing six and a half years of standoffish roommates she wanted nothing to do with, who in turn felt excluded by the rest of their year mates. Perhaps it was time they stopped ignoring them? Would they _want_ to be included now? He asked Hermione as much.

"I think so," she said. "And I really don't need to see them punished anymore. Besides, Padma, Sue and Lisa aren't _that_ bad. Or at least, not anymore."

The pair resolved tit had been enough. They couldn't _make_ anyone else want to be friends with the three girls, but they could make it clear that Hermione didn't need to see them punished.

The attention of the whole school was soon diverted by the continuation of Quidditch season. The first game back after Christmas was Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff, and Oliver Wood was clearly nervous. He doubled the amount of practice sessions, insisting on them being at the pitch by 5:30 every morning, well before the sun arrived to warm the winter air.

"Beating Slytherin doesn't mean we can relax," he informed them all. "If anything, it means we need to work harder. We finally have a shot at winning the cup this year, and I'll not lose it just because you lot want a lie-in."

"He's gone mental," George - or Fred - grumbled as they all sleepily strapped on their gear.

Harry couldn't help but concur. The human body was _not_ meant to be awake at this hour! He had to admit, though, that a few weeks later when it came time for the match, he really did feel better prepared as a result of all the practice. His first match had been pure instinct, but now he had some actual plays he could use, and a solid awareness of what the rest of the team would be doing. On the day of the match as both teams entered the pitch, Harry looked at the Hufflepuffs and actually felt… confident. This was going to be fun.

Two and a half hours later, Harry's opinion of _fun_ had significantly changed. Gryffindor were winning, yes, but neither he nor the Hufflepuff seeker had even _glimpsed_ the snitch. The score was 140 to 80, but even the crowd was tiring. The game had been tame and uncontroversial, with Madam Hooch only having to call one foul so far - a clear accident on the part of one of the Hufflepuff beaters. Harry was continuing his loops of the pitch, following the tactics that Wood had been drilling him on. He attempted to disrupt Hufflepuff plays and help his team's chasers a few times, but in general he focused on his search.

The one good thing so far was that there was no sign of sabotage or 'unusual incident'. Remembering his first match, Harry was overly wary of the bludgers flying about. Fred and George were doing an admirable job of batting them at the Hufflepuff team and so far the other beaters had only directed them at Harry a couple of times. It was a small blessing, but it wasn't making the game anymore interesting for him.

Finally, _finally_ , there was a hint of gold just above him. Harry's small frame darted across the grey sky, drawing the attention of the crowd below who all perked up once more. The other seeker was rushing upward too, but Harry was far too close for anything to be done. The game ended as uneventfully as it had played, with Harry easily snatching the snitch out of the air and holding it up in triumphant relief. The crowd cheered and jumped about happily, with even the Hufflepuff's taking it well. They were good sports, of course, just by virtue of being Hufflepuffs.

The two teams landed, feeling tired and ready to rest. Hands were shaken and compliments exchanged as the quaffle and two bludgers were easily corralled and chained up by Madam Hooch. Harry breathed a sigh of relief seeing that achieved, before heading back to the castle with his team. This would be the first time he could actually join in the celebrations.

o

Quidditch parties, Harry soon learnt, were absolutely bonkers. Oliver was literally _dancing_ on one of the tables, while the three chaser girls were challenging all the Gryffindor boys to arm wrestling matches. Harry and his friends had been firmly forbidden from partaking of the firewhiskey that their older housemates had smuggled in, but they were at least given butterbeer - a rare treat for the young first years. Oddly enough, the twins actually _weren't_ their usual rowdy selves. Sure they played a few pranks and had distributed a fair amount of tainted candy, but they seemed far more caught up in their own dramas than in creating havoc for everyone else.

Harry catalogued this unusualness before letting himself get carried away with the excitement of the evening. He, Dean, Seamus and Ron spent half the night trying to change the colour of Lavender and Parvati's hair, while Neville simply laughed at them all. Eventually they turned their attention to Ron's rat and finally succeeded in changing his fur to a horrible green shade. Ron was promptly horrified and spent the next half hour begging older students to remove the charm that had " _turned Scabbers into a slimy snake_ ". Everyone seemed greatly amused.

"Oi Harry," Lee Jordan shouted out at one point, waving his arms in the younger boy's direction. "I've got a bone to pick with you."

Harry raised an eyebrow, amused by the effect firewhiskey was having on his older classmates.

"Why," Lee began, pulling Harry close to him, "Are you always so damn well behaved?"

"Perhaps because he's not stupid," Parvati replied on his behalf, somewhat defensively. "You've seen how much attention he gets from the teachers. Do you think they wouldn't immediately notice if he started acting like you and the twins?"

Lee shrugged and wandered off to bug somebody else.

"I know a way you could avoid getting noticed," Ron whispered to Harry, having given up on his rat and rejoined the group.

Harry's eyes widened and he shoved his friend firmly.

"We are not using the cloak to sneak about," he hissed.

"Please Harry? We could go anywhere! They'd never bust us."

"Professor Dumbledore _gave_ me the cloak, Ron. Use your head. Don't you think he'll have something in place to monitor how we use it?"

Ron just shrugged.

"Maybe," he said. "Or maybe not."

"What are you two whispering about," Parvati asked, having noticed their quiet conversation.

"Uh, we'll tell you later," Harry mumbled awkwardly and turned to ask Dean about quidditch's comparative advantages over football.

Eventually the party started to exhaust itself. Oliver fell asleep on the floor, clutching his quidditch gloves and mumbling some sort of acceptance speech with a beaming grin on his face. All the girls retired themselves and the Weasley twins had left hours ago, talking quietly about something. Ron's yawning soon triggered the other first year boys and they headed off to the dorm, leaving the last few revellers behind. The next day might be a Sunday, but they did want to wake in time for _some_ breakfast.

Ron gave Harry a look as he climbed into bed that clearly indicated they were still going to talk about the cloak. Harry rolled his eyes. Once laying down, though, he couldn't help but imagine the fun they could have with it.

He'd received a letter a few days into term from Mister Ollivander explaining the _true_ origins of the cloak. What he'd thought was an immensely generous gift from the headmaster was actually the return of a _Potter_ family heirloon. Professor Dumbledore had always been very nice to Harry over the years, but it paid to be reminded sometimes that he was a little manipulative and controlling. Harry could still remember how many of his childhood experiences had required extensive negotiations with the old man to be permitted. Goodness knew how much more controlling her would have been if Mister Ollivander hadn't been given custody.

A small and rebellious part of Harry's mind started to needle him about the cloak then. It was a Potter heirloom after all, so why shouldn't he use it? Ron was right. He should start having some more fun.

o

"Stop it Harry, you're stepping on my feet!"

"Well if they weren't so big, maybe I could avoid them!"

Ron elbowed him solidly for that one.

It had taken a full week to think of a way to utilise the cloak that Harry didn't immediately veto as "not worth it". He was highly paranoid about it getting confiscated. Then, though, the perfect opportunity had arrived.

A mid February storm had brought with it a heavy dumping of snow, carpeting the school grounds with thick white powder. It was of course not the first snow they'd had of the season, but waking up to that pristine sight on a Saturday morning had immediately captured the fancies of every first year student. Their happy shrieks from each dorm had instantly annoyed their older counterparts, who summarily chased them out of their respective houses.

An excited early breakfast followed with almost every first year present, chatting happily about their plans for winter fun. Ron and Harry, though, were looking at each other rather more mischievously than any other students. _This_ was their chance to try the cloak out properly.

The pair expertly manoeuvred the conversation towards snowball fights, before eventually an all-out war was being suggested. House versus house. The few older students foolish enough to enter the Great Hall too early that morning were soon roped in to help magic up some defensive snow walls and all the first years were soon running out towards the grounds, shouting excitedly as they went. Harry and Ron made excuses of forgotten scarves and gloves and headed back to the tower, cheeky smirks on both faces.

"So there's nothing actually _in_ the school rules about being invisible," Ron said as the pair ran back to the tower to get the cloak. "We're not trying to get into restricted areas, or sneak out after curfew."

"Precisely," said Harry. "And cheating in a snowball fight is hardly a punishable offence either."

The pair exchanged wicked grins. They burst into the common room shortly after, earning glares from the older students there. Ignoring them all, they ran upstairs and were soon dragging the cloak out of Harry's trunk. A little finicking and they'd managed to settle it over both of them, covering them entirely. It did make for an awkward walking style, but soon enough they were carefully making their way back through the common room, avoiding notice from anyone.

The pair made their way through the Hogwarts corridors, carefully avoiding other students and trying valiantly to avoid treading on each other's feet. What they were quickly learning, though, was that walking under the invisibility cloak was a little disorienting. If a fold of the cloak fell over their faces they immediately lost sight of the other one and were liable to bump into them. Reaching hands out in front of them meant their arms vanished completely from view, making spacial awareness a big problem as they tried to adjust to this. The other issue was leaping out of the way of passers-by. The first time they had to do it they tripped over their own legs and tumbled noisily to the floor in a tangle of limbs. It was sheer luck the cloak hadn't come off. Their secret was kept but the commotion left one very confused third year looking around for Peeves.

After that they inched carefully along the very edge of the corridors, prepared to duck into the closest classrooms if they heard anyone coming. The sounds of happy yelling from outside kept their attention and they endeavoured to make their way towards the Entrance Hall as fast as possible. Soon, though, the appearance of Filch and his cat ahead of them had them pausing, worried.

"Dirty little buggers will traipse water in when they come back," he was muttering to Mrs Norris. "And no one's got detention yet to help. We'll have to change that, my sweets."

Ron drew in his breath a little sharply, then held it in horror when Mrs Norris turned to look in their direction. As one, he and Harry began walking slowly backward, towards the last door they'd passed. Reaching it, they opened it slowly and slipped inside, closing it silently behind them. Turning around, they immediately had to duck to avoid spell fire.

"Really Severus," came the amused voice of Professor Quirrell, "Firing spells at a colleague? What _has_ come over you."

Harry and Ron gaped at the scene in front of them. A very sour looking Professor Snape had his wand brandished in the direction of Professor Quirrell, who looked entirely too pleased about the whole situation.

"You _did_ something over the holidays, Quirinus. I know it and Dumbledore knows it. I will figure out what you're up to."

"Now why would you think I'm up to something?" Quirrell asked mildly. "Is there something exciting going on?"

"Do you think I'm a fool?" Snape asked him.

Quirrell laughed.

"Naturally."

Snape snarled at him and fired off another spell that Quirrell easily batted away, luckily not near the two hidden boys. He didn't return fire, but simply swayed on the spot and watched Snape carefully.

"Leave this school," Snape hissed.

"No," Quirrell said simply. "And truly, what in Merlin's name led you to think you could force me?"

Snape went to move again, but Quirrell was quicker. His wand snapped out with phenomenal speed and whatever he'd cast struck the potions professor directly, sending him flying backward across the room.

"How embarrassing," Quirrell commented, examining his fingernails. "Is this why they won't make you defence professor? How infuriating that must be for you."

Quirrell pocketed his wand and turned away from the other professor as Snape scrambled back to his feet. Harry and Ron quickly moved out of the way as Quirrell approached the door.

"Good talk, Severus," he called over his shoulder. "Now do stay out of the way."

He closed the door after himself, leaving Professor Snape to glower at it hatefully. He soon turned and made his own exit out a door on the other side of the room, leaving Ron and Harry standing, shocked, against the wall.

"Bloody hell," Ron eventually said. "What was _that_ about?"

o

"I can't believe you have an _invisibility cloak_ and you didn't tell any of us," Lavender cried out, looking highly indignant.

"What's more, I can't believe you used it to _spy_ on people," Susan followed this up, looking reproachful. "Not to mention you cheated today."

"Hey, none of the rules about the snowball fight said _no invisibility cloaks_ ," Ron defended piously.

Susan rolled her eyes.

Harry and Ron had continued their journey outside and used the cloak to absolutely thrash Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin in their snowball wars. Once finished, though, and once the pair had triumphantly pulled the cloak off to claim their victory, they had hustled their group of friends off to an empty classroom to tell them what they'd witnessed. In front of them now all the Gryffindors, the two Hufflepuff girls, Hermione, Anthony and Daphne were looking at them with varying expressions. Some were outraged and reproachful. Most were contemplative.

"I think we can all agree that Gryffindor's victory today was a travesty," Daphne said, causing the Gryffindors to begin spluttering protests, "But that appears to be the least significant part of Harry and Ron's day. Our focus should really be on what's going on between Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell."

"Agreed," Hermione said. "I think it's clear now at least that Professor Quirrell is the bad one."

"No it's not," Harry said, immediately upset. " _Snape_ was casting spells first. Quirrell just beat him."

"Yes, but _think_ , Harry," Daphne replied. "You said Quirrell told him to stay out of the way. That sounds as though Snape is trying to stop him doing something."

"Probably trying to stop him doing something good," Seamus said hotly. "Snape's an evil bastard. Everyone knows it."

"Maybe it's a misunderstanding," Hannah tried, diplomatically. "Perhaps they both think the other one is in the wrong, but maybe neither of them is?"

Most of the room scoffed at this.

"I suppose you can all take comfort in the fact that it's now obvious what you need to do," a voice near the door spoke up.

The room's occupants turned as one in shock to see Draco Malfoy leaning against the doorframe. He sneered at them all.

"What?" he said. "You lot weren't particularly subtle when you rushed off."

"You can't just spy on us, Malfoy, you slimy sneak!" Ron shouted at him.

"It doesn't sound like you're one to talk, _Weasley_ ," Malfoy spat back.

"What is it you think we _need_ to do, Malfoy," Harry finally said.

Malfoy rolled his eyes as though it were obvious.

"Tell a teacher."

"They're not gonna do that," Seamus scoffed, but Neville nudged him looking worried.

"M-maybe they should."

A few others around the room nodded at this.

"You both said earlier that the invisibility cloak wasn't against any school rules," Anthony reminded the pair. "Pick a teacher and go tell them."

Ron and Harry exchanged glances, then nodded.

"We'll go tell Professor McGonagall," Harry said.

o

Harry and Ron took the cloak back to their dorm first, burying it in the bottom of Ron's trunk. Hopefully if their head of house tried to confiscate it this would at least delay the process while they argued. They then slowly made their way back out of the tower, towards Professor McGonagall's quarters. As uncomfortable as this would be, Malfoy was definitely right. This went beyond a group of first years. Professors were fighting in the school!

"Maybe we don't have to mention the cloak," Ron suggested. "We just say that we _happened_ to see them."

"Unless she asks," Harry clarified.

"Unless she asks," Ron agreed.

Arriving, they exchanged one last glance before Harry reached up and knocked on the door.

Ten minutes later they were nursing cups of hot chocolate and trying to convince the professor how serious this was.

"Boys, I agree with you that this is a serious incident," she replied, nodding at them both in turn. "Professors absolutely shouldn't bring their personal differences into the school, and there should _never_ be open fighting anywhere in Hogwarts, but I assure you this is more minor than you think. Both Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell have the headmaster's complete trust. And mine."

"But Professor McGonagall," Harry protested, "We _know_ one of them is plotting something bad. It's probably Professor Snape but-"

"Really Mister Potter," Professor McGonagall interrupted him firmly. "I would have thought better of you than to be listening to anti-Slytherin gossip. Professor Snape has taught here for a decade without incident. Mistrusting him over rumours is highly inappropriate."

"But… but…"

The professor softened, looking at the boy she'd known for years from Ollivander's shop.

"I will look into it, Harry," she assured him. "Truly I will. I'll inform Professor Dumbledore, too, in case he has more information than me and thinks this warrants further attention. But I assure you, this will be a minor personal difference and nothing more."

Both boys were soon shooed from the room, even as they tried to convince her again that this was very serious. She nodded and smiled gently at both of them, but neither felt particularly reassured. The pair were soon walking slowly back to the room where they'd left their friends and Draco, feeling more than a little downcast.

"Should have known a suggestion from Malfoy would be rubbish," Ron said, trying to cheer his friend up. "At least we didn't have to mention the invisibility cloak."

Harry just shrugged.

Reaching the room, they soon relayed the encounter to their friends, eliciting different responses from each.

"I'm _sure_ Professor McGonagall will handle it," Hermione protested. "She's brilliant _, and_ she's a teacher. If she thinks it's minor, well… maybe it is."

"Honestly, Granger, you can't possibly agree with that," Daphne said, giving her a mild scathing glance. "At best she didn't take them seriously. At worst the school is sweeping this under the rug."

"Father's is always saying this institute's been going down hill for years," Malfoy declared, but was ignored by the others as they tried to figure it all out.

"Perhaps we should go straight to Dumbledore," Susan suggested.

"No," Harry said. "I mean yes, if we have to, but he's… manipulative."

His friends pressed him for more details, but Harry shook his head.

"Later," he said, with a glance towards Draco.

"We should send letters home," Hannah said. "Or at least, Harry and Sue should."

"That makes sense," Anthony agreed. "Mister Ollivander is magnificently clever, and Susan your aunt should definitely be able to help if things get bad."

Harry and Susan quickly agreed to write letters home that evening. The room soon fell quiet as each student contemplated the day's events.

"It's strange, isn't it, to think that we can't trust all our teachers," Parvati commented.

"Not to mention that we can't rely on the other teachers to do anything about this," Lavender agreed.

"Well then," Harry said. "I guess it's still up to us."

o

Happy holiday season everyone. I hope 2016 has held some joy for all of you.


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